


Butterfly effect (as in: The effect a literal butterfly can have)

by SkerandaAo3



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Added tags include:, Akechi accidentally saves himself, Akechi had a plan, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Come for the story stay for the endnotes, Fluff, General wholesomeness, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, No beta we die like my emotions after that Royal ending, Spoilers!, and has to deal with the fallout, and then he sabotaged himself, but the gay panic is real, our boys are disasters regardless of their sexuality, the Thieves are wholesome, twice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:29:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 66,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28814187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkerandaAo3/pseuds/SkerandaAo3
Summary: Akechi had the perfect plan.He had been trailing the Thieves through Shidos palace for hours. They were getting tired, but kept pushing on nevertheless. They only needed one more letter of recommendation to open the door to Shido, and Akechi would patiently let them do the dirty work for him. He would ambush them on their way back out, giving Joker his promised rematch and taking the letters for himself after proving once and for all why he was better than all of them!At least that had been his plan before the Thieves started to lose their current battle. It was just a bunch of random Shadows, and yet they were making quick work of the Thieves. It was somehow not as satisfying to watch as he had imagined.He watched them being taken down one after the other.This wasn't good.The leader of the Shadows raised his weapon to finish Joker off.God-FUCKING-dammit!Akechi leapt forward.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 105
Kudos: 390
Collections: persona fic recommendations





	1. Chapter 1

Akechi had been trailing the Phantom Thieves for hours. He would never admit it aloud, but he was impressed at the speed and tenacity they showed as they tore through Shidos palace. A palace that he himself had only ever entered twice, and both times the vicious shadows had forced him to retreat almost immediately. 

Granted, Shido knew about Akechis abilities and therefore had measures in place that served the sole purpose of keeping the black mask at bay, whereas the Phantom Thieves were a more abstract variable, as far as Shido knew. 

So yes, the fact that the Thieves managed to do in a mere day what he had failed to do in three years was both humiliating and awe-inspiring to him. 

But he could use that. 

The thieves were getting tired, he could see it. Joker, ever the inspirational leader, had been fighting upfront the whole time, but the rest of the fighters had been swapped with the backup group after the second letter, and then they had swapped back again after a particularly taxing part of the maze just hadn’t gone well for them. 

They were all exhausted, some injured, and SP and supplies were running low enough that smaller injuries had to wait for a safe room to be treated. And yet Joker didn’t call it quits. 

There was something about him today that irritated Akechi. He was not as cautious as he should be. He brushed the comments and pleas for a break aside. He kept a very careful eye on his teammates, but his concerns when one of them got hit weren’t of the “Are you alright?”-sort Akechi had come to know in his own brief time with the group. It was more of a “Can you keep going?” this time around. 

Two hours ago Akechi had labelled this behaviour ‘reckless’. But in the state the group was in right at this moment, he saw something that was more ‘desperate’, and that put him on edge. Something was definitely off about Joker. 

Akechi didn’t _really_ care about the wellbeing of the Thieves. They were his enemies, after all. But he could use them in his plan to defeat Shido. By following the path they cleared through the palace, he had come closer to his goal today than he had ever before. 

He didn’t even have to fight himself. His suit blended into the shadows perfectly, and if there were no hiding places from which he could keep the Thieves in sight, he could safely hang back further and follow them by the sounds of the fighting for a while. 

So whilst the Thieves battled, he himself stayed well rested, to the point where he was almost bored. He would follow them until they had all the keys to that stupid door, then ambush them, take the letters for himself and give Shido what he deserved. 

He would also give Joker a piece of his mind. All the Thieves, really. To think that he would fall for that stupid plan in the interrogation room. He had been exploring the Metaverse for the better part of three years by now. Did they really think he wouldn’t notice the shift when he entered it? Idiots!

If Akechi hadn’t come up with the great idea of using the Thieves as his personal battering ram to get through this godforsaken ship, their leader would have died. Exiting the Metaverse in the interrogation room would have given Akechi even more of an advantage. No trail, no proof, nothing to go on that would even suggest any foul play. He could go on about the stupid naivety of their plan for days! 

But Akira could still be useful. So he had settled for shooting the cognition and calling it a day instead. 

Yes, he was looking forward to that fight. His plan was very simple, but sometimes simplicity was all that was needed. He was so close, he could almost taste it! 

It was about then his anticipation turned into annoyance. He was watching the Thieves climb down the side of the ship after getting a letter out of somebody or other in the suites. Akechi was keeping a few levels above them, using the height as a vantage point to keep them in sight without being in their way as they backtracked downwards to the walkway around the ship. 

He was annoyed because as soon as they stepped back onto said walkway, they got ambushed by a large group of Shadows like bloody amateurs, and the fight wasn’t going in their favour. 

When Joker swapped Skull and Fox for Mona and Queen to keep the healing going whilst he himself summoned one of his ridiculously powerful personas to keep up the damage, Akechi already knew that they would have to retreat after that battle, which in turn meant he would have to camp the diet building (again!) to know when they went back into the palace. 

So yes, that was annoying. And sort of disappointing. He had been itching for a fight, and it looked like he wouldn’t get it. Plus, they would be rested and prepared the next time, and there was only one letter to go, so the fight would be him against seven (or more accurately six and a half, as Oracle never directly engaged in combat), and if they weren’t sufficiently tired out by the Shadows, that could go either way. 

Akechi knew that he was stronger and more experienced, and he would have the element of surprise with Loki, but he wasn’t so stupid as to underestimate them. Individually? He could take them all. In a group? He couldn’t possibly guard against all their attacks if they simply surrounded him. 

He was so preoccupied coming up with a new strategy that he almost missed Queen going down. Which in itself wasn’t that bad. But the panicked shouts that followed together with the fact that there was no immediate healing sort of got his attention. 

Noir raced to her side, a healing item in hand, whilst Fox jumped back in to fill the empty space in the frontline. 

Akechi quietly crept a forward a little, perching on the very edge of the balcony he was hiding on. He was two stories above and a little ways behind the Thieves, and with their whole focus on the fight he wasn’t too worried about being spotted. Even if, they wouldn’t recognize him in his black outfit.

As he got closer, he could distinguish more of their frantic shouting. 

Joker was trying to get their fighting formation back in order to better protect the rest of the team. With the rapid switching, the backup group that normally kept a safe distance was almost right up in the fray with them. 

“Fox, Mabufudyne, try and freeze them! Mona, don’t attack with Zorro, focus on healing! Panther, back him up if you can! Come, Melchizedek!”

Akechi had never seen that Persona before, but Joker switched through them with the speed Takamaki went through different outfits, so he wasn’t too surprised. 

The team reformed and attacked, but it seemed their strategy didn’t work out as well as it should have. The Mabufudyne went off, but none of the enemies actually froze, the Cerberus actually repelling the ice, and Panther and Joker were fighting almost exclusively with their weapons at this point, saving their spells for healing. 

In the back, Queen was slowly getting on her feet, but she was leaning heavily onto Noir. “Joker, we need to get out of here!”

“I know! Oracle, look for a way out!”

“On it! Gimme a few seconds!”

She didn’t get a few seconds. Panther attacked a Cerberus with her whip, and a reflective barrier threw the attack right back at her. Akechi wondered if she had forgotten about the High Counter or if she was simply out of SP and desperate. Either way, she ended up on her back, slamming into the railing of the ships walkway. She was out of the battle for sure. 

Fox, who had been about to strike a second Cerberus with his sword, hesitated at that and abandoned the move to throw up a shield around Joker, who was frantically looking back at his teammates. 

“Mona, heal her! Oracle, _hurry up!_ ”

“I can’t!” 

Everyone turned to the cat-like creature. 

“What do you mean, you can’t?” Noir screamed, but everybody could figure that it meant Mona was out of SP. And by the looks of it, he was not the only one. 

They were still facing two Cerberus and one Parvati, the latter of which used the brief pause in combat to cast Diarama on its allies. 

“There is something else coming towards us, and behind us is a dead end! We need to end this NOW!” Oracle supplied, fueling their panic. 

Noir, who was currently pulling out something from their supplies to help Panther, shot a glance towards Queen, who was barely able to stand on her own. “This is our penultimate bead!”, she announced, voice pitched slightly higher than usual. She was clearly trying to stay composed, but they all could feel that they were losing this battle. 

Akechi could feel it as well. He quietly dropped down onto the first floor in preparation. Between the two options of returning later and trailing the Thieves again, possibly having to battle them all at near maximum strength, or getting rid of them right now and just going for the last letter himself, he decided that killing them now would be his best chance. 

One clawed hand was already gripping the blade at his side, and his mind raced, trying to chart a path, figuring out the best order in which to attack them. Mona, Panther and Queen were almost no threat, Fox was most likely out of SP, but he, Skull and Noir were still quick enough on their feet (and unfortunately also the best melee fighters). And then there was Joker. Annoying, cocky, idiotic Joker, who would certainly not hesitate to throw himself in harm’s way to protect his team.

Just as he was thinking that, Joker summoned Melchizedek again. “Mahamaon!”

A swirl of brightly glowing paper strips surrounded the three enemies. Akechi was familiar with this type of attack. It was highly taxing on the caster and had a mediocre chance of success at best. 

Joker _was_ desperate. 

But it worked. With a flash and an explosion of black mist, the enemies were no more. 

There was a brief silence as the people below tried to catch their breaths. 

“Is everyone alright?” Joker asked, giving them each a probing look. They were all injured, but nodded nevertheless. 

_Now!_ Akechi thought. His left hand gripped the hilt of his sword, the claws on the gauntlet of his right quietly scraping against metal as he reached for his mask, preparing to unleash his persona. This was his chance. They were easy pickings. He could take them, he knew it!

So why the fuck was he hesitating? He was this close to getting revenge on Shido. And then…

 _”And then what?”_ , a voice whispered in his head. 

_You’ll go back to your own, empty apartment and wait until Shidos hitman finds you?_

Akechi hated that voice. He tried to ignore it, but he found that he had involuntarily taken a step backwards, crouching low behind the balconies railing. 

_No, it’s now or never!_

He hopped back up onto the railing, sword drawn, ready to ambush his prey. But it turned out someone had beaten him to it. 

A man with black hair, tattoos and yellow-tinted sunglasses had approached them below, cutting off their escape route. He was slowly clapping in mock applause, and another group of cognitions followed him in formation, fanning out to the sides as the two parties faced each other. 

It looked almost civil, the way they talked, but the tension in their body languages betrayed them all. Akechi was a little too far away to listen in on their quiet conversation. Not that it mattered, terribly. 

He could guess that this person was the mysterious “Cleaner” who held the fifth letter, and contrary to the Thieves, Akechi was quite familiar with the kind of work this man did. This was the man Shido called whenever Akechi failed to locate someone in Mementos. 

Akechi had always been careful around that one. Sometimes, when he had disappointed Shido for some reason or other, he had been paranoid about that man paying him a visit. 

But this was good. Wasn’t it? That cognition held the last letter, and the fight (that was inevitably going to happen any second) would leave the Phantom Thieves dead and the Cleaner hopefully somewhat injured, so Akechi would be able to collect his loot and take Shido out _today_. In an hour, that bastard could be dead. 

_Why am I worrying?_ , he wondered, hands twitching nervously against his weapons. 

And then an awful lot happened in a very short amount of time. 

Shadows burst out of the Cognitions, and Akechi could immediately tell that they were exceptionally strong ones. His friends didn’t stand a chance.

The Ongyo-Ki went straight for the leader, his black glaive missing Joker by mere inches as he dodged backwards. The small fry fanned out around them and cut the rest of the team off, separating them for the tactical advantage. 

_Oh, they’re so done for._ Akechi felt himself reminded of the arena in Sae-sans Palace, where he had watched the fights from above in a similar fashion. Somehow he couldn’t find it in himself to enjoy it this time around. 

One of the goons jumped Panther, who was still reeling from the earlier blow, and only Skull saved her from being skewered. Instead, she was left with a ‘mere’ nasty gash across her side. 

_Oh no._. Akechi winced internally at the sight. He knew from experience how much stomach injuries hurt, and Takamaki probably hadn’t as high of a pain tolerance as Akechi did after years of fighting alone. Hell, he had seen her nearly incapacitated by a hot Crêpe burning her tongue once, when she had shown him her favourite stand for his food blog. 

_She won’t be re-joining the fight_ , he knew for sure. Neither was Queen, and Skull and Noir had their hands full guarding the two. 

Fox and Mona tried to gang up on one of the Shadows to cut a path to Joker, who at this point had been scraped by the blades of the Ongyo-Ki multiple times, bleeding heavily from cuts in his forearms that were up in a defensive position. 

Akechi noticed that none of the Phantom Thieves were using spells anymore.

 _No._ Joker was his to take down. He had been so close in the interrogation room. The image of the dead cognition flashed in his mind, as vivid as when he had seen it first two weeks ago, and from then on every night in his nightmares. 

He watched as the Thieves struggled. This was not a fight. This was a slaughter. It was inconceivable to Akechi. 

The group that had been his rivals, his brief ‘teammates’, that nearly outsmarted him with their ridiculous plan, were getting taken down by a bunch of middle-class Shadows. 

The people that had known he was out to kill them and had still been nothing but nice to him. He still had those stupid little trinkets they had given him for his birthday. He remembered his discussions about his favourite TV-show with Sakura (who was also probably his half-sister, not that he had told her), and about his cases with Nijima. 

_“Is this where your Justice leads you?”_ That fucking voice was back, and Akechi distantly realized that it sounded like it came from his left (and in conclusion from outside his own brain). He briefly glanced that way, but there was only the wall. 

It was unfair, he pondered. None of them had really done anything to deserve dying like this. They also had people who cared about them in the real world, family and friends and partners. But that was none of his business, was it now? They had decided to come here of their own free will. Shit happened. Tough luck. Not his problem. And what did he care about Justice?

 _What’s the point of winning if it’s not you who beats them?_ he thought. 

He leaned forward a little more, the shift almost tipping him off the edge. Every fibre of his being was taught in anticipation of _something_. 

_”This game is truly unjust. You have been used against your will and without your knowledge. But you do not have to play by their rules, Justice! You may yet turn the tide!”_. There was something blue in his periphery, but he didn’t dare look away from the battle below as he frantically followed the movements of his rival. 

The boss struck against Joker, who dodged the curved blades on the end of the staff in the last possible moment, and used the opening to advance. But the Shadow wrenched his weapon back and sideways, catching Joker in the legs. He went down hard, bleeding from a deep cut in his calves, and there was no way in hell he would be getting up fast enough. 

_No!_ , he thought. And then _Please don’t!_

Joker wouldn’t die from that, would he? He was better than this. The weapon crashed down into the floor next to Joker, who was rolling out of the way. 

_You can’t!_ He had promised him a rematch, and he would hold him to that if it was the last fucking thing he did. 

Mona was flung over the railing; his cat claws the only thing saving him from falling into the water. 

Akechi couldn’t go down there. Best-case scenario, he would reveal himself to the Phantom Thieves and his years of planning would be for nothing. Worst-case, they would finish him off whilst they had the chance. It would be the smart thing to do. Akechi drew his blade.

 _They won’t_. He knew that already. 

Jokers coat was caught on the weapon, keeping him pinned down. The Ongyo-Ki gave a sign to one of his underlings, who abandoned his fight with Fox and went straight for Kurusu. 

Akechi leapt forward without his conscious input. The myriad of unfinished thoughts, insecurities and what-ifs inside his head made way for the strongest feeling of _I refuse_ he ever had. No matter their interpersonal grievances, this could simply not be the end for the Phantom Thieves. 

_God-FUCKING-dammit!_ was the last coherent thought he had, overriding everything else. He didn’t know who or what he was cursing, maybe the Shadows, maybe the Thieves, probably himself, but it didn’t matter, he landed and rolled, and the Shadow advancing on Joker was impaled by his red, serrated blade in the same moment Akechi turned to the Ongyo-Ki and finally released his fury.

“Come to me. LOKI!”

The black-and-white Persona manifested in an instant, awaiting its commands. Akechi knew he had to finish this battle in record speed; he had already screwed himself over even coming down here. The Shadows in this Palace had targeted him in the past, and Shidos cognitions would try to end him the moment they laid eyes on him. 

He could already feel their attention turning towards him. The Phantom Thieves were another, albeit smaller concern. They were next to useless right now, but they could get actively in his way if they decided to treat him as an enemy instead of the temporary ally he had become once more. He had also no idea how they would react to him after the battle, but he was convinced that he would not be allowed to simply walk away and pretend it never happened. 

The battlefield itself was inconvenient at best as well. The Shadows and the Thieves were split up into multiple smaller fights, and he realized that he could not use any AoE attacks without running the risk of accidentally killing them. 

Which admittedly had been his goal like thirty seconds ago, so it was _incredibly_ irritating that he had changed his mind about that. He was used to fighting alone against multiple foes, so of course his fighting style aimed at doing as much damage to as many things as possible. Fighting with the others had been irritating at best, always having to keep their positions in mind to avoid hitting them by mistake. The support had been quite welcome, almost cancelling out the inconvenience. 

He had however zero experience when it came to actively protecting someone else in battle. 

He realized for the first time that he had precisely three attacks he could reliably aim at a single foe in these close quarters, and he liked none of them in this situation. 

He calculated all this in a split second, experience of three years instinctively telling him what could and what wouldn’t work.

“Laevateinn!” Loki surged forwards and attacked his designated target, trying to end this encounter in a single blow. Simultaneously, Akechi wrenched his blade free from the Shadow next to him. It was readying an attack, the stabwound not enough to destroy it, and he quickly tried to sidestep.

“Crow?!?” came the familiar voice from behind him. Akechi had expected the surprise, but the unmasked joy in Jokers tone just didn’t make sense. He could tell from hearing alone that he had that stupid grin on his face. Suddenly, he froze mid-movement. 

_The voice came from behind him._ If he stepped away, the Shadow would have a clear path to Joker. 

He abandoned his dodge and attempted to bring his blade up to defend, but he just wasn’t fast enough, and pain exploded in his left shoulder. The sword went clattering away, knocked from his grip by the force of the attack. 

Akechi tskd at the Shadow. This was another inconvenience. But he was not in trouble, not yet. 

Well, he was in deep trouble, actually, now that he had the others watching. He could win this fight no problem… But he was reluctant to go _there_ in front of the others. 

He had tried so hard to keep his masks on around them. They had seen a few of them slip, he knew that, and after the Casino he couldn’t really hope to keep up the appearance any longer, but there was no way they could know just how fucked up he was inside, not if he wanted keep any possibly remaining sympathies. He was already partially at their mercy, if they got out of this Palace they held almost all the cards. 

With a quick glance over his shoulder, he tried to assess Lokis position, preparing to send his Personas blade against the Shadow instead. But to his surprise, the Ongyo-Ki was not dead, which added the final straw to the rapidly increasing pile of bad decisions that had been spawned from his lack of impulse-control. 

Everybodys attention was now locked on him, a weird mirror of his performances on TV, the audience awaiting his next move. He vaguely registered the surprised and excited (excited?) shouting from his former teammates, but it was the Boss Shadow that got his attention. 

“Now, now”, it growled, “for that one, we actually do have a commission. How nice of you to finally show up!” 

_Ah, fuck it_ , he thought, _if they want a show, a show they will get!_

He reached for the magic of his Persona once more, feeling the surge of the powerful, all-encompassing strength and determination to just _fight_ that only he could command. 

The red and black mist shrouded the Shadows, and their pained howls were soon replaced by low growling and screeching as they turned against each other. The others watched the spectacle unfold with wide eyes, but Akechi didn’t let up; saving a bit of that force for himself, feeling his thoughts being washed away as he let himself succumb to the thrill of an all-out battle to the death. 

The pain in his arm became a faint background noise as he picked his sword back up, sending Loki in for another Laevateinn, the toll it took on his body insignificant in this moment. 

“Why don’t you just shut it and DIE, like you are supposed to!” he screamed, and then the battle became a blur. 

He was distantly aware of the Shadows trying to maul each other, the Thieves weaving inbetween them, although Akechi could not tell if they were fighting, retreating or maybe doing something else entirely. 

His entire focus was on the Black Shadow in front of him. The stupid thing took his second attack and was _still alive_ , and he took that as a personal offence. He went after it with everything he had, slashing with his sword and claws and unleashing Lokis spells in rapid fire. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity that couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, the cursed thing dissipated into an explosion of smoke after Akechi drove his sword deep into its neck. 

He was breathing heavily, the exertion of the fight catching up rapidly as his self-inflicted status faded with it. He had been hit a few times, nothing major, but in combination with his all-out use of Loki, the fight had been a little draining. 

Akechi grinned at the feeling of his sore muscles. He felt elated, like only the combination of a good exercise and the adrenaline of battle could make him feel. It was great. It made him feel almost light-headed. 

His arm really hurt. He quickly glanced at it, trying to assess the damage. He wasn’t prepared to see his shoulder sliced open like that. Blood was running down his arm in small rivulets, the drops falling off his gauntlet in a rhythmic drip-drip-dripping motion. It was mesmerizing. 

There was now also a slightly dizzy feeling accompanying the light-headedness, and he distantly observed that it was maybe more the blood loss than the adrenaline he was feeling right now. 

Someone was talking to him. “Watch out!” It sounded like Sakamoto. He managed to turn around, nearly stumbling as his legs refused to properly cooperate, but it was enough to see one of the crazed Shadows flying towards him. 

Right. He had forgotten about them. 

His last thought was tinged with embarrassment about this amateur mistake as he hoped the Thieves would eventually let him live that one down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lavenza, entering the Velvet room: "You guys won't believe the shit that nearly happened today! I had to avert the most awful timeline, in which the Justice Confidant of my poor wildcard would have died! Can you imagine? Their bond is one of the most special ones I have ever seen!"
> 
> Margaret, laughing hysterically: "You don't say?" *Drinks wine straight from the bottle*


	2. Chapter 2

The emotional rollercoaster Akira experienced during that stunt was unreal. He had seen his fair share of things in his life, and after he discovered the Metaverse he’d thought he’d probably seen it all. 

He knew the others often wondered how he could keep cool and composed in the most extreme situations, and he was sort of proud to be the one they relied on, because they knew he would stay rational no matter what. It was the sort of indifference that came with nearly getting arrested and murdered because the school turned into a castle, but he wasn’t complaining. 

Yusuke had once said that “there is probably nothing left in these Palaces that could make him lose his composure”.

Boy, had he been wrong. 

In _less than two seconds_ , he went through the following emotions:

1) Absolute fear when he knew he was going to die

2) Even more fear at the realization that his friends were probably going to die as well

3) Heart-shattering guilt because it was his own fault

4) Shock and surprise together in equal amounts as a person in a black suit dropped down between him and a Shadow

5) Relief because the figure turned his blade against the Shadows and not him

6) Confusion as the figure spoke and sounded really familiar – he would recognize that voice anywhere, followed by  
7) Unbridled, excited, jittery happiness because holy heck - Crow was here to save him, which meant that  
8) the pride he felt as his team-member (?) _destroyed_ the Shadow pinning him to the ground was not entirely misplaced, right, so he got up with a new boost to his  
9) Confidence as he rejoined the fight. 

So yea, that was a lot. And not counting the exhaustion and pain, because those had started before the two seconds of emotional whiplash. He tried to find his focus again, trying to shake off the daze this new turn of events had left him in. 

He still had a team to keep safe. Inwardly, he didn’t fully comprehend what was going on around him, the Shadows were turning against each other, sending the Thieves skittering out of their ways as the monsters stumbled around the walkway, completely ignoring everything else, for now. 

But Joker didn’t have to know the hows or whys to use an advantage when he saw one. He gave the order to regroup, and they reassembled on the edge of the battlefield with the practised ease that came through a combination of experience and trust. 

Makoto had devised strategies for every possible scenario she could think of, and now a single word was all it took to convey a far more complex idea. 

As he reached over the railing to haul Mona back onto solid ground, he felt more than saw Fox and Skull rushing past him, helping Panther to safety. Queen was already further back and safe, helping Oracle to strategize, and Noir was keeping herself between the Shadows and the team, beheading a Shadow that came too close in one fell swoop. 

They were still on the wrong side of the fight though, their exit being further ahead, but it might as well have been on the other side of the moon. 

As he dashed towards his team, bringing up the rear, he glanced at the battles he bypassed. There were undoubtedly fewer Shadows than before, and whenever one got eliminated, the victorious one would proceed to attack the closest of its former allies without regards to its own injuries. It was like a Battle Royale. 

They looked different, too, somehow darker, but it was hard to pinpoint in the heat of the moment. And in the back, there was this big, black-and-white striped persona with horns and a blade almost as big as its body, and by process of elimination he concluded that somehow, that one belonged to Crow. 

Crow, who was currently going batshit feral in his duel with the Ongyo-Ki, and whose presence was a mystery that would have to be unravelled later, because all input that Jokers brain supplied at the moment was static and an error-noise. That suit really fit Crow, in more ways than one. 

_That explains why he chose that codename._ It was not the most helpful insight at the moment. 

He reached the group and all but tossed Mona towards Queen, nearly skidding on the floor in a U-turn as he flashed a genuine grin towards his team. “Let’s do this!” he announced, making a b-line for the nearest Shadow. 

They were all at least partially injured by now, not paying attention to the Thieves, and there was just no way in hell he would stand idly by to watch Crow take out the entire group by himself. Those were bragging rights he didn’t want to hand over. 

Without waiting for a reaction from the others, he threw himself back into the fray. His mood had taken a complete 180, he felt like for some reason he could take on the world right now. 

Even without spells, the Shadows went down easily, distracted and hurt as they were. The Thieves actually only had to dispose of two, the rest already shredded up. Joker kept a careful eye on Crow. He knew the other man could handle himself, even insisted on it, but he was bleeding badly, and he fought like the concept of self-preservation was totally foreign to him. 

Thankfully, this was the moment the Ongyo-Ki dissipated, so Joker concentrated back onto his own foe. Just as he sliced its belly open, he heard an exclamation from Skull. “Crow!” Joker whipped back around. This was Skulls “we-have-a-problem-voice”. 

The problem was the last Shadow, that even though it was hanging on by a thread, mauled its last opponent back into oblivion and then made straight for Crow, who was enshrouded by that same weird aura.

Crow himself was not reacting to Skull, who managed to add a “Watch out!” to his warning, but all he did was turn, tearing his gaze away from his arm, looking slightly surprised as the Shadow slammed bodily into him, flinging him to the floor so forcefully that Joker could swear he felt the vibrations of the impact all the way over where he was standing.

180 again, back to fear. 

He knew he didn’t have to give a command to tell the others what they were supposed to do, so he didn’t bother, racing straight for the Shadow before it could get another hit in, Fox and Skull right behind him. 

When he was a few feet away, he tossed his dagger at the creature. It impaled it in the side, and Joker closed in and used the dagger as a makeshift handle to manoeuvre it around, almost tossing it at his teammates. 

They saw the move coming, Fox swept his Katana low, tripping the Shadow, and all that was left to do was for Skull to bring his mace down as it hit the floor in front of him. 

Suddenly, it was eerily quiet, the only sounds Joker could hear were his own rapid breathing and the wind from the ocean whipping past them. 

Once again he took stock of his team, and then turned to look at the person lying next to him on the floor. 

Crow was definitely out, and he was bleeding badly. Most of it came from his left shoulder, the blood already forming a small puddle underneath, but the fabric of the suit was suspiciously darkening in other places, too. There was a white line crossing the entirety of his helmet, a scratch that had also cracked a lens. 

The visor obscured the face almost fully, but the glimpse Joker could catch erased any doubt about the identity of their saviour. 

“Is he dead?” Oracle asked, sidling up with the rest of the crew. 

“No he’s not”, Joker answered immediately. 

“I think you’re supposed to check for vitals before making these claims”, Skull interjected, before crouching down to do it himself. It was always a bit strange to be reminded that, between his mother being a nurse and his own tendency to get into trouble, Skull was the most proficient in first aid by miles, despite having zero healing skills in the Metaverse.

“Yup, still alive for sure. That shoulder doesn’t seem good, tho. Noir, do we have any healing items left?”

“Just a few bandages, a bead, a few snacks, and half a kit in the saferoom.”

They turned to look at Joker, waiting for a confirmation of what to use. Normally the rationing was Queens job, but whenever they ran this low, they let him make the calls. 

He weighed his options. Normally, he would use the bead without hesitation, but the saferoom was not that far away, and they were leaving anyway. They could not possibly keep going. Any injuries they sustained in the Metaverse would fade without a trace after exiting it, and with a Bossfight, they would need all the funds they could get to restock. 

With a glance up and down the walkway, checking for Shadows, he sighed before he reached down and started to carefully pick Crow up, mindful of the injuries. 

“Let’s get to the saferoom first”, he decided, “we are done for today, anyway.”

The others murmured their agreement, each one of them eager to take a break and sit down. 

The short walk was a quiet, but hurried one, and as soon as they closed the door behind them, they all collapsed quietly in their favourite spots around the table and on the floor. 

Noir relinquished her usual spot on the couch to make space for Crow, and Panther assisted him wordlessly with the medkit. Metaverse magic had the undeniable advantage in the fact that things worked just because they believed it would work (Futaba had once given them a lengthy talk about cognitive psience and lost them all after two and a half minutes, but that was the gist of it). 

Still, the wound on the shoulder looked bad. The flesh was sliced open diagonally, starting near the neck, on top of the shoulder, and ending a few inches down when whatever had been hooked there had torn out of the arm with incredible force. It was hard to tell, the blood pooling and clotting inside the gash and the black fabric of the suit making it difficult to really distinguish anything, but Joker was almost sure he could see a bone. 

He glanced at Panther, who, judging by her expression, seemed to see the same thing, and they quickly got to work. 

After everybody got settled down and Crow was no longer bleeding out, there was a long, tired silence. They all had their gazes turned to the wall or the floor, letting their minds drift in a moment of reprieve.

“So”, Panther finally sighed after a few minutes, “that happened.”

“Yep”, Oracle supplied, popping the ‘p’. 

There were a couple dozen elephants in the room, and although Joker felt tired beyond belief, he knew he had to address at least some of them.

“I’m sorry”, he admitted, “For not calling it quits earlier.”

He made a brief pause to see if anybody wanted to comment on that, but they just acknowledged him with brief nods, so he continued. 

“I wanted to get Shido taken down as fast as possible, and I admit that I underestimated him. I thought we could send the calling card this week, if we only cleared a path to the treasure, but I know that we should have stopped ages ago. I’m really, truly sorry”, he ended. 

“C’mon, man, it’s not like you’re the only one to blame”, Skull scoffed. “I mean, it’s not like you forced us to keep going. We should’ve said something too!”

“Indeed. You may be our leader, but that does not mean we blindly follow you. This group decides democratically, after all.”

“Fox is right! We all overestimated our limits today. We should just be grateful that we got all out of it and learn from this”, Noir said, nodding along as she spoke. 

Joker gave them a wry smile. “Thanks guys. You are really the best. Still… I wish we would have at least gotten that last letter for our troubles.”

“Mwehehehe! Lo and behold!” Oracle shouted and jumped up, prancing to the middle of the room and spinning dramatically around as she waved a tattered, slightly bloody piece of paper over her head. 

“Oracle! Where did you get that?”

She grinned devilishly as she explained. “Well, believe it or not, but it never hurts to actually check for loot after you kill a boss! That _was_ the cognition we were after, wasn’t it?”

It had been. But in-between the conversation they had and the battle that followed, Joker had briefly forgotten about that fact. 

“Well done, Oracle!” Panther cheered. 

“Speaking of that cognition…”, Mona crossed his little arms and cocked his head, thinking, “he said some very interesting things, didn’t he?”

Joker was inclined to agree. That cognition had been oddly self-aware during their brief conversation. It was obvious that it had no loyalty for Shido, or at least that was what Shido seemed to see as the truth. 

_”Jeez, you are just a bunch of kids.”_

_”I didn’t think you’d come to me so easily. Normally I’m against harming a bunch of toddlers, but there is a considerable prize on you for information alone. Imagine what I’d get for your actual heads.”_

_”Aren’t you a few people short?”_

_”Now, now, for that one, we actually do have a commission.”_

“It did”, he simply said. The statements were worrying in their own right; it was clearly implicated that this Cleaner was looking for them. However, Joker was a little puzzled over the details. 

The cognitions inside a Palace reflected the knowledge of the ruler, and not the actual person, so any information needed to be taken with a grain of salt, but it seemed that at least Shido knew surprisingly little about them. 

Not only had the cognition commented on their numbers, despite the full group being present and clearly visible, there also was a reward for information on them. Which was confusing, because Joker knew that Shido had a prime source, and he knew that. Hell, Akechi had admitted to running with them in a public interview! Shido knew _somebody_ who held all the information he could ever need, so why? Speaking of…

“Seems like Akechi isn’t the only one Shido sent after us”, Noir concluded. 

They all looked to the figure on the sofa. The bleeding had stopped, but there were smears of blood still all over the fabric of both the couch and the black-and-blue suit. Panther had dismantled the helmet from the armour, if only to protect herself and Joker from accidentally stabbing themselves on it as they tended to the wounds, and now Akechi looked almost peaceful, face more relaxed and unguarded than any of them had ever seen. 

_Cute_ , his subconscious supplied helpfully. Joker sighed internally. _Goddammit, we’ve been over this,_ he scolded himself.

“What are we going to do with him?”, Fox asked. 

That was a whole other can of worms Joker was not willing to open right now, so he decided to take the question a bit more literally than it was probably meant to be. 

“Well, obviously we need to talk with him, but I guess that won’t be happening tonight. So for now, I guess I’ll take him to Leblanc, and we’ll all reconvene there tomorrow. See from there.”

As expected, that plan earned him a few questioning looks, ranging from concerned to amused. He knew his friends greatly differing opinions on Akechi, and more importantly his relationship with him.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”, Queen asked.

Joker just shrugged. “It’s not like we have any options. Unless any of you want to take custody?”

They all knew he was right. The only other people that could possibly accommodate a guest/celebrity/(ex)-enemy/ ~~crush~~ rival of the leader of their wanted group of criminals were Makoto and Ann, and for different reasons that was not a real option. 

Makoto, because she would have to tell Sae about what happened, and Sae would not be happy to hear about any part of today’s proceedings, which would trigger a chain of events that could very well lead to Jokers untimely demise.

Ann, because she was a meddler, living up to her Arcana with as much mischievous glee as possible, and she never missed an opportunity to shove the two of them at each other, not even if they just had a near-death experience on a doomsday-ship. Now that she was dating Shiho, Akira didn’t even have any leverage against her left. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to keep an eye on him!” Mona assured the rest. 

Joker cleared his throat. “Actually, I’d like us all to keep eyes on each other. If what that cognition said is true, there is at least one member of the Yakuza out there looking for us, and although I doubt they have anything to go on, given that they haven’t found us yet, I’d feel better if I knew you guys weren’t alone. So, buddy-system?”

It was another of Makotos strategies to assign them all into pairs for emergency situations, mainly to keep Joker from freaking out as he tried to single-handedly keep tabs on everyone himself, especially with their growing numbers over the summer. 

These emergencies usually didn’t involve sleepovers, so they had to reshuffle a bit, but by the time they exited the Metaverse thanks to the weird teleportation powers of the saferooms, they had their arrangement settled. 

Most of their parents were either dead or absent anyway, so the only people that had to worry about family reporting them missing were Ryuji, Futaba and Makoto at the moment. 

Makoto had it comparatively easy, Sae knew about them, so she only needed to send her sister a text, stating that she would be staying over at Anns place together with Haru. 

Futaba could not get away that easily, and no one was brave enough to face Sojiro to convince him otherwise, so she called dibs on a defeated-looking Morgana to be her familiar for the night. 

Yusuke graciously accepted Ryujis invitation. Ryujis mom would most likely be out for a night shift again, but at least there would be food prepared. 

Which left Akira with Akechi, who was currently draped across his back like a very sleepy, very heavy koala as they made their way across the main deck of the ship towards the exit. Akira hoped he would wake up after they exited; he did not want to carry an unconscious celebrity through half of Tokyo in the middle of the night. That was, like, the opposite of being inconspicuous, and Akira was supposed to be dead, after all! One picture was all it would take to get them into even more trouble than they were already in. 

As he was trying to remember the train schedule, he noticed that the door to the Velvet Room looked different, somehow. Caroline and Justine were nowhere to be seen, which was a first, as far as he could recall. He made a mental note, but couldn’t find it in himself to care, as they finally exited the ship. 

Upon returning to the real world, he felt incredible relief as his injuries and bruises from the day were left behind in the Metaverse together with their masks. Unfortunately, the exhaustion that somehow correlated with the severity of their wounds overtook them all with rapid speed. 

It was also nearly two in the morning. 

“Sojiro is going to KILL ME!” Futaba shrieked, hastily typing a message to prove her continued survival. 

“Are the trains even still running?” Ann asked, already pulling up the app to check for herself. 

The trains were, in fact, no longer running. 

Haru was voted Phantom Thief of the week as she got them all cabs. 

Akira shared one with Futaba, who was carrying the Monabag, and a still asleep Akechi. The cab saved Akira the trouble of actually having to carry him around the city. Still, they had exchanged his signature tan peacoat with the subtler dark blue one Yusuke had been wearing to avoid the detective being spotted, draping it over both of them in a way that made them hopefully unrecognizable with a quick glance. 

It spoke volumes that no one even tried to make stupid comments or jokes about that whole situation. They all just wanted to go home.

Even the cab ride with Futaba and Mona was spent in near complete silence, the only conversation was to either give the driver directions through the backstreets of Yongen-Jaya or to coordinate their efforts to get Akechi out of the backseat. That guy was definitely heavier than he looked.

They parted ways on the corner of the alley that lead to Leblanc, mumbling a quiet “Night” to each other. Akira fumbled with the keys, nearly dropping them as he tried to find the keyhole one-handed and in the dark. He accidentally elbowed Akechi, who was hanging off his back again, in the ribs, and he could feel the breath against his neck come out in a huff at that, the first reaction he had gotten since they excited the Metaverse.

“Akechi? You there?”

He felt a slight shift behind him. “can’t do th’t”, Akechi murmured, before going still again.

“Can’t do what?” Akira asked. No response. “Can’t help me getting you inside?” he grumbled to himself. Still nothing. “Fine, be like that”, he sighed.

He finally managed to get inside, repeating the whole thing with a little more skill to lock up behind him, lest Sojiro needed more reasons to be mad at him. 

He climbed the stairs in the dark, and he hadn’t known a flimsy mattress on a bunch of wooden crates could ever look this inviting. 

He stumbled forward, and stopped right in front of it. He suddenly had to solve the practical problem of getting Akechi off his back and onto the bed, and he knew that there was probably a very simple, very obvious solution to this. He just couldn’t figure out what it was. It was like when you forgot a specific word and suddenly there was just _nothing_ in your head. 

He was tired, which in turn made him grumpy, and he wanted to sleep, and this was an issue. Akira couldn’t believe it. 

After standing there for almost a minute, he gave up and decided for an alternate approach. He collapsed face-first onto the bed himself, and then turned onto his side to let gravity take the weight off of his back. 

There was a lot of ungraceful wriggling and shoving, but he eventually managed. Akechi was _still not responding_ to any of this, and Akira was getting worried that he was in an actual coma. 

This wasn’t exactly normal, he had experienced comparative injuries before, and never had any of them been more than briefly dizzy after exiting the Metaverse. It might have to do something with the weird status that had afflicted him. It was the only thing that was different. 

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and he quickly pulled it out to check his notifications. He had several unread messages in the groupchat, thumbs-up emojies from his friends, signalling that they had made it home safely. He quickly added his own, and Futaba followed suit seconds later. 

Akira turned onto his other side and squinted through the glow of his phone into the darkness, barely able to make out Akechis face. Slowly, he brought his hand up to poke him in the cheek. 

“Psst.” Poke. 

“Akechi.” Poke. 

“Are you alive?” Poke. 

If that didn’t get a reaction, nothing would. Akira sighed after a moment of silence. He turned away again, looking at the sofa across the room. He decided it was probably safer to sleep there. He could vividly imagine Akechis reaction to being taken hostage and then also waking up next to the person he tried to kill two weeks ago. 

Akira would have a better chance at having a conversation if they didn’t start fighting immediately. 

He sighed again, turning it into a yawn halfway through. Despite still wearing his coat and shoes, keys digging into his hip through his pocket and the room being slightly too cold because the covers were underneath and not on top of him were they should be, he was physically incapable of moving. 

His bones felt like they were liquefied after the events of the day, and he wanted to take just a small breather. He’d get up in a minute. Two. Five. 

He started to doze off, and on autopilot he managed to at least get the glasses off his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the girls sleepover
> 
> Makoto: Ann, I know you set this up. Do you really think this is a good idea?
> 
> Ann: I ship it, Makoto!
> 
> Haru: They were kind of cute together, but still... Are you sure they'll be fine?
> 
> Ann: Don't take this from me guys, this is, like, so many tropes, they might as well be soulmates.
> 
> Makoto, quietly: This ship has a name and it's called Titanic.
> 
> Ann: *throws pillow* And I will go down with it!


	3. Chapter 3

_The room was dark and quiet, too quiet. Even sounds like his own breathing, the rustling of fabric or his own footsteps as he approached the table in the middle were just – not existent. It felt like he was deaf._

_Akira was looking at him. He kept staring, unblinking, at the barrel of the gun trained on his face. He looked sad._

_Akechi wanted to speak, to ask what had possessed him to go along with this stupid plan, to throw himself to the wolves so willingly, but he couldn’t. Instead, he watched his own finger squeeze the trigger, a move that seemed to stretch time like toffee, until eventually it snapped and the shot rang through the entire building._

_Akiras head hit the table with a splatter of blood, grey eyes wide, wide, and oh so empty._

_Akechi desperately wanted to leave, he didn’t want to have to see this, but he knew without looking that the red light on the camera in the corner was blinking, recording, and the whole world was looking at him, they knew what he had done, and he couldn’t go anywhere, he had to stay, handcuffs chaining him to the table like a metal leash._

_The walls around them disappeared, and they were on a brightly lit stage, surrounded on all sides by faceless masses, their conversations mixing and overlapping, until it sounded like the roaring of a storm, and they were staring, staring, staring._

_He averted his gaze, looking down, and there were small drops of blood travelling up his hands, his arms, disappearing underneath his clothes and crawling up further on his skin, tingling and burning as they went up to his shoulders, wrapping around his neck and inching across his face, despite his best efforts to shake them off, he needed to get it off…_

_He was looking at Kurusu, no, that was Joker, with the mask firmly in place, but the eyes were the wrong colour, they were bright yellow and shifting in their sockets at an impossible angle to stare straight up at him, and he spoke without moving his mouth “Did you really think you could walk away after this?” but the voice was also wrong, that was Shido speaking, and suddenly, without moving, Akechi was facing the other direction, and Shido was standing in the door of the interrogation room, aiming a gun at Akechi, right between his eyes were those itchy droplets of blood had congregated. “You should have been more careful with your cover. Now they all know. You are useless.” Down the barrel of the gun, he could see something writhing, moving, watching._

_He needed to run, he was going to die, he didn’t want to die, get out, get out, get out, MOVE!_

_His commands finally registered in his body, but not fast enough, there was pain in his forehead and_

Akira was normally a heavy sleeper, but for some reason he came to almost immediately this time. He was alert before he even knew what had woken him. He registered the dark room, how he was slightly uncomfortable where his clothes had tangled around him in all the wrong places, how his hand was still wrapped around his glasses, how he could feel the open space at his back because he was lying on the very edge of the mattress. 

It was quiet, the usual sounds of the waking city not yet filtering through the windows. This made the smalls noises of distress all the more prominent, and he unfurled himself to look around, coming face to face with Akechi, who had moved in his sleep to mirror his own position, lying on his side. 

He first thought Akechi was talking, but try as he might, he couldn’t distinguish any actual words. It sounded confused, edging on scared, and as his eyes adjusted to the low light, he could see his whole expression tense up more and more. 

He realised that Akechi was probably having a nightmare, in Akiras experience unfortunately nothing unusual after a hard day in a Palace. He was about to reach out to wake him up, when Akechi suddenly jolted forwards, their foreheads connecting painfully.

Akira yelped, more from the surprise than the pain, and he instinctively recoiled, which toppled him over the edge off the mattress. He landed on the floor with a thud. 

He stayed there for just a moment, staring at his own ceiling, before he brought one hand up to rub at his forehead, massaging the pain away, hoping it wouldn’t bruise. The evidence from his ‘interrogation’ had just started to fade, he didn’t want a new one. 

“Why”, he groaned to himself, before he sat up to check if that had at least woken the bastard up. Akechi was sitting as well, breathing shallow and fast, looking confused as his eyes darted around the room, before they landed on Akira and he froze, staring. 

Akira, who already had opened his mouth to ask something along the lines of “are you okay”, froze as well, and for a moment, neither moved. It was the first time they had been truly face to face since they had split after the fight with Sae-san in her Casino, and an awful lot had happened since then. 

Before he could begin to formulate a sentence, Akechi lunged at him, gripping his wrist with almost painful force and yanking his hand away from his face, and he just… continued staring, searching for something. 

_Do I really have a bruise there?_ Akira thought, suddenly oddly self-conscious. This was weird behaviour, even for Akechi. Especially for Akechi. 

“Um…”, he started eventually, after the staring had continued for a while, and he could feel an embarrassed flush creeping up, “can I help you…?”

He _immediately_ regretted that sentence and wanted to slam his head against a wall, because what the fuck kind of conversation starter was that? This wasn’t customer service! _Can I help you_ , Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, seriously? That was what his brain came up with?

At least it broke their stalemate. “Oh, s-sorry”, Akechi stammered, releasing his wrist like he suddenly realised he had gripped hot iron, simultaneously shifting backwards, out of Akiras personal space. There was a read mark on his forehead as well, and although Akira noticed that he immediately tried to pull his usual calm and competent persona back together, there was something more… vulnerable to him. 

Akira tried to find something appropriate to say, but he just didn’t know how he wanted to approach Akechi. Should he go back to their familiar banter, snide comments and hidden agendas underneath three layers of a game they both knew they were playing? But that particular game was over, they had somehow both lost, and most of the cards were finally on the table. 

He also didn’t really want to go back to pretending. He was so close to seeing the real Akechi, the person behind the mask of the detective prince, the part that had always intrigued him most, whenever he had gotten small glimpses of it. There shouldn’t be massive walls left between them, not if they wanted to work together. And Akira wanted that a lot. 

What even were they? Rivals? Friends? Allies?

Should he just cut straight to the heart of the matter, asking the thousands of questions he had? But that discussion would be difficult, and it was not the right moment, not yet. He didn’t even know why Akechi was even here, why he had been in the Palace, why he was working for Shido, why he had kept coming to Leblanc in the past months, why why why…

So what then? He was too tired for this.

“I’m too tired for this”, he heard himself say aloud. Okay, so deflecting it was. He stood up, fished his phone out from under the pillow and checked the time as he walked away and down the stairs with the nonchalance of a person that had precisely zero fucks left to give. 

It was barely five in the morning. There were a few new texts from his friends, and he quickly read them as he entered the bathroom to start his night-time (morning?) routine, or at least the bare necessities like brushing his teeth, putting the glasses away, and most importantly getting into some comfier clothes. 

One was from Futaba, informing him that the café would stay closed today, bless her, and another was from Yusuke, who asked the group when their classes would end so they could figure out a time to meet up. This was followed by a brief argument that was started by Ryuji and ended by Makoto, because no, they were not allowed to skip.

Akira was suddenly very happy that he didn’t have to go to school at the moment. He laid out a spare toothbrush and gathered two water bottles on his way back up. He tossed one at Akechi, who had apparently not dared to move in the meantime. 

He somehow caught it and stared down as if trying to discern the secrets of the universe with its help. Akira paid him no mind, instead rummaging through a shelf, tossing some spare clothes towards the bed and then trudging over to the sofa, dragging his spare blanket behind. 

“Bathroom’s yours if y’need it, make yourself at home. Wake me ‘f the place goes up in flames or Sojiro comes in to shout ‘t me”, he said, the fatigue slurring the words together a little. “And before you go looking for your stuff, Yusuke has most of it. Goodnight.”

He threw himself onto the sofa and wrapped the blanket around himself in his best impression of a burrito, not even awaiting an answer, feeling the pull of sleep almost instantly. He trusted Akechi to not run away, not only because they had taken his wallet, keys and phone along with his peacoat, but also because Akira knew that Akechi had thrown his own schemes at least partially out the window by even showing up, and he knew that Akechi knew that he knew that, so yea. 

_”Now, now, for that one, we actually do have a commission.”_

“By the way, I think Shido sent the Yakuza after you, so please don’t actually go outside”, he added quietly. 

There was a long silence that followed, before he heard a little sigh. “Right.” He listened to the sounds of footsteps descending the stairs, followed by a door opening and closing, and the sound of running water. Akira stayed awake until the footsteps came back up, softer this time, bare feet on the wood, and he heard the creaking of the mattress and the rustling of the sheets before it became quiet once more. 

Akira wanted to desperately say something, a ‘thank you’, or a ‘glad you’re here’, or even a simple ‘are you okay?’ but he couldn’t find the actual words, and so he let sleep pull him under once more. 

He was woken what felt like mere seconds later by the noise coming from downstairs. There were multiple things breaking, a skittering sound like marbles or pebbles being poured onto a hard surface, and an accompanying string of curses. 

The ruckus had him nearly falling onto the floor for the second time as he jolted up and off the sofa before his eyes were even properly open. He kicked the tangled blanket aside, nearly tripping as he hurried downstairs in full fight-or-flight mode, hoping there wasn’t a robbery or worse, Shidos men breaking into Leblanc to arrest him for a second time. 

What he found instead was simultaneously better and worse than what he anticipated, but definitely life-ending for someone in the very near future. 

Akechi was standing behind the counter, as far on his tiptoes as he could, stretching desperately up to the topmost shelf, where his fingertips could barely reach one of the heavy glass jars containing the coffee beans. The glass was leaning at a precarious angle, trying to follow at least three or four of its brethren that had left gaps on the shelf after they had descended towards a certain doom on the tiled floor. 

Already he could see the coffee beans that had skidded out from behind the counter, revelling in their newfound freedom and starting to dissipate into impossible places as they bounced off the walls and furniture like balls in a flipper game. 

It was almost comical, and Akira was briefly tempted to just stand there and watch, but the image of Sojiro coming through the door and seeing this mess was enough to send him to the rescue of both their asses. 

He hopped onto the counter and swung his legs over, a fluid move practised a thousand times (whenever Sojiro wasn’t there), and barely stopped himself from mindlessly touching down on the other side, where glass shards and coffee beans had created new layer of floor that should not be treaded on barefooted. 

Akira stretched one leg and used his foot to fish for the stool that was hidden underneath the counter for the express purpose of reaching the upmost shelf and avoiding scenarios like this one. He shoved it forward and used it as a stepping stone to lean in and push the jar back into place. 

He glanced down and watched as Akechi, finally relieved from his burden, sank down to his feet. He was still wearing the clothes Akira had handed him earlier, red shirt and grey pants, and he looked like he hadn’t slept at all. They both stood there in silence, this time because they were taking stock of the chaos that surrounded them. In his head, Akira was already going through the motions of cleaning up, trying to remember what sorts of beans had been in the jars and whether or not there were any back in storage to maybe erase the evidence this happened at all. 

He was interrupted as the yellow phone on the counter suddenly started ringing in its shrill signature tune. Akira picked up without thinking, he already knew who that must be, so he was not surprised. 

“Akira, there better be someone dead or dying, what the hell was that?” Futaba asked. Although she had promised to no longer actively listen in on Leblanc, she hadn’t removed all of the bugs she had planted there, “for safety reasons”. She had constructed a program that would notify her whenever it picked up certain key words or, in this case, noise levels, and she insisted on it being a necessary security measure. 

Akira had protested at first, seeing as he was the one living here, but after their thievery antics had picked up he had begrudgingly agreed, and in the past weeks he had slept better knowing that if somebody were to somehow find them out and come for him, the leader, Futaba would know and send help. She had also sworn on her Neo-Feathermen collection that she was only listening to the downstairs area. 

Right now, it was a godsend. It was already light outside. “Futaba, my friend, buddy, pal, I swear, I will do whatever you want, I promise, just please, please keep Sojiro away from the café for the next, like-“, he glanced around once more, “like two hours, if you can, maybe more if you can manage, please, I am begging you!”

There was a short pause that read _I am judging you so heavily right now_ before she replied “Fine. But you still didn’t tell me what happened. It sounded like a shelf came down or something.” 

“Well, erm, that’s actually not too far off, it wasn’t the _whole_ shelf, just three or four jars, and – NO STAY WHERE YOU ARE YOU MORON, THIS IS YOUR FAULT!” he screamed as he saw Akechi trying to move out from behind the counter, only to stop mid-step, confused at the sudden yelling. He shot Akira one of his pointed glares at being commanded like that, but it was softened by the slightly guilty look he was simultaneously wearing. So he at least acknowledged his mistake. 

“You- there is glass everywhere, you idiot, just – here, climb over the counter like a reasonable person and sit the fuck down, okay? Futaba, you will have my eternal gratitude if you can buy me some time, please and thank you!”

Akira watched Akechi obediently hop over the counter to settle in his usual spot, pointedly looking in the other direction, as Futaba answered. “You can keep your gratitude, I want something really expensive that I have yet to think about, and I also want a picture of Leblanc right now. You have exactly three minutes to send one, or else I’ll send Dad over immediately.” And with that, she hung up. 

“You are the worst person and I hate to be associated with you!” Akira exclaimed loudly to the empty air, knowing that Futaba was still listening in. 

Akechi, who was still looking any way but his, visibly hunched his shoulders at that. Oh no. “Wha- sorry, I’m not talking to you, I’m talking to Futaba, she’s a gremlin and has the place bugged and- ah, goddammit, wait here.”

Knowing that the time limit was indeed a very real threat, he went back upstairs to retrieve his phone, opening the camera as he took the steps down two at a time, taking one picture of the whole interior and one focusing on the worst of it behind the counter. 

“There, I hope you are satisfied, you evil creature. And now get out of here!”

He received a thumbs-up emoji for his troubles, followed by a text that said “Enjoy your date ;P” 

“Very funny”, he mumbled under his breath. But yea. Speaking of. 

“You okay?” Akira asked softly.

Akechi was sitting uncharacteristically still, hands folded in his lap, and had been watching the photoshoot with mild curiosity. He looked like he tried to cling to their old routine, like he was just here for coffee and a chat, but dressed down into Akiras old sleeping clothes, barefooted and visibly tired, surrounded by at least 20.000 yens worth of broken coffee equipment and ingredients, he just seemed defeated. 

Akira couldn’t even find it in himself to be angry at him. 

“I’m quite alright, thank you.” There was barely a hint of his usual bite behind the statement. 

“Good”, he nodded, relieved that there were at least no more injuries. “What happened?” Akira asked, giving him a small smile, trying to keep the conversation light as he put his shoes on to protect his feet and retrieved a broom from the cleaning cabinet. 

“Well, I tried to retrieve a jar and ended up accidentally knocking them over, _as you can clearly see_ ”, he answered, sounding more like his usual condescending self as he waved an arm around to indicate the evidence. 

“Yes, I got that much, thank you. What I want to know is what you were even trying to do here”, Akira countered, starting to sweep the clutter into neat little piles. He thought to himself that Akechi might as well at least offer to help, but then again, he had been ordered to sit, so Akira kept his mouth shut on that. 

“Oh, what might I have been trying to do, getting coffee beans down from a shelf in a coffee shop, where I come to drink coffee, I wonder.”

Akira raised an eyebrow at him “Do you even have an idea how to use any of this equipment?” he asked, gesturing at the siphons in particular. At least they were still intact. 

“Oh please, I’ve watched you do it often enough.”

Akira grinned, he had thought the same thing after his first few weeks here, and then promptly gotten the bad Karma for his hubris when his first cup came out tasting like tar. He hid his grin from Akechi by ducking down behind the counter, sweeping the piles up into a dustpan and tossing them. It hurt his soul to see so many beans go to waste, but between the glass shards and them having mixed with each other, there was no way he could salvage them. 

“Alright, then please, go ahead”, he said, stepping up to the shelf, “which roast did you want?”

“That one, second from the right”, Akechi answered and pointed to the jar that Akira had just saved from its untimely demise. He obliged, setting it down on the counter with a heavy thud. 

“Just so you know, that isn’t actually your usual” he explained. _Way to go, Akechi, not even knowing the name of your own favourite blend_ , he thought. “This is…” he turned the jar a bit so he could read the label “Salvadoran Pacamara”, he finished. His own favourite. 

Akira nudged the jar a little further and turned away, pretending to have to look through the grinders to find the right option. That was a coincidence, right? Akechi wouldn’t, would he? _As if there are any coincidences with that guy_. Great. Now he felt _mean_. And he couldn’t even apologize, because Akechi would hate that even more. 

Akira schooled his expression into something that was hopefully neutral as he laid the equipment out. “There you are, have fun. I’ll be in the back for a minute, see if I can replace these”, he motioned vaguely to the shelf. “Don’t set the place on fire while I’m gone”, he added cheerily, earning him a glare and a barely audible “Don’t tempt me.” 

Akira retreated as fast as he could without making it look like he was retreating, entering the small, cramped storage space in the back of the café and flicking the switch to illuminate the crates and bags and spare parts stacked efficiently against the walls and each other. He thankfully discovered that the different roasts were all accounted for, so at least they wouldn’t have to cross them off the menu until the next delivery, but even though he looked everywhere twice, he could only scrounge up two extra jars, and they were the wrong type. 

Still, thinking it was better than nothing, he collected his findings and returned to the main area. He had distinctly remembered a conversation in which Akechi had confessed to having zero skills in the kitchen, and he was just slightly worried about that fact. 

As he returned, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, at least when it came to the interior. Akechi, on the other hand, buried his face in both hands as soon as he caught sight of Akira. 

“How are you getting on?” Akira asked, not teasing, but genuinely curious, dropping the jars into the sink to rinse later and setting the beans aside safely until then. 

A muffled groan that might have been a sentence was his only answer. 

“I’m sorry, what?”

Akechi lifted his face the tiniest bit, waving one hand towards the siphon. “I asked: How do these work?”

Akira went over and pressed a button. “Like this.”

“…okay.”

Akira couldn’t help it any longer, this whole situation was just too absurd, and so he burst into giddy laughter, reaching for the necessary tools and getting on the task himself. “Just- please, let me do it.”

“Yea, yea, you got me, I don’t actually know how this works, fine. You can stop laughing now.” He crossed his arms defiantly, but Akira could swear that he saw his lips twitch upwards ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry, I promise I’m not actually laughing at you, it’s just”, Akira waved around, trying to reign his laughter in, he really tried, “Futaba would say this is the most extensive quest for a single cup of coffee in my entire history in this café, and she would be right, you know!”

Akechi relaxed at the admission, and he was smiling just a little. “Well, it has made for an interesting morning, I suppose.”

“Yea. Speaking of, what time _is_ it?” He answered his own question as he posed it, checking on his phone to see that it was barely past eight in the morning. He was still tired, but sleep was off the table for now. Actually…

“Did you even sleep?”

“What’s it to you?” Akechi scoffed. So that was a no.

“Believe it or not, between carrying you all the way back because you were in a coma, and then getting head-butted off the bed, I actually do kind of worry about you!”

Akechi blinked, taken aback by the sudden outburst. “You- you what?”

Akira rolled his eyes. “I said: I worry about you! That was quite the stunt you pulled there!”

“Not that! You didn’t really carry me here, through the entirety of Tokyo! What if anybody has _seen_ … Urgh, where is my goddamn phone?”

Akira found it unbelievable that the fear of somebody seeing him being carried was what Akechi chose to focus on in this situation. That, and his phone.

Akira had his own out, typing away and keeping a careful distance in case Akechi tried to swipe it to most likely look up his social media. 

“I told you that Yusuke has your stuff. We exchanged your coats so you we wouldn’t stand out and kinda forgot about it.”

“And here I thought you were using it to keep me from the Metaverse.” It was a sarcastic reply.

Akira hadn’t actually thought about that. He made a good point tho. Thankfully, he got saved from answering by a message notification.

**The (LGB) Disasters**

_Monday, Dec 5th_

**Akira:** Ann  
 **Akira:** Akechi doesn’t believe I carried him  
 **Ann:** DSC_2783.JPG  
 **Akira:** Knew I could count on u <3

Akira opened the photo to check it was actually what it was supposed to be before showing it. Not to say he didn’t trust Ann, but he didn’t. 

The shot was from an angle slightly lower than normal, obviously taken in secret (which didn’t help because Ann was predictable like that). She must have taken it on their short walk away from the diet building to the pickup spot Haru had given the cab drivers. Ann had been walking ahead, so both their faces were clearly visible, despite the harsh light from a street lamp overhead messing with the camera. 

Akira was walking a little hunched over, clearly exhausted and eyes trained on the floor, Akechi draped over his back, arms hanging loosely over his shoulders and face nestled into the crook of his elbow, asleep. It was a really good photo. 

Unfortunately, Akechi didn’t seem to share that opinion. “You can’t be serious. Please tell me that this is a joke.”

“Nope”, Akira declared proudly. “Besides, you should be grateful. You are much heavier than you look!”

“Please tell me no one saw that.” 

Akira just shrugged. He could confess that they had actually taken cabs instead of trains, but it was just much more fun if Akechi didn’t know that. Then again… He was already having a bad day, and it was not going to get any better, not when the whole gang was going to show up in the afternoon, and they would have to make some pretty serious decisions. 

So if he could grant Akechi at least this small mercy… “It’s fine, really”, Akira assured him. “It was the middle of the night, the trains weren’t even running anymore. We all took cabs, and I didn’t see anyone. I can ask Futaba to keep an eye on the internet, but I’m pretty sure no one noticed. I have a pretty vested interest staying unseen too, y’know?”

Akechi looked at him like he was an idiot. “Yes, I know that it would be incredibly unfortunate if anybody else had snapped a picture like this, because you are supposed to be _dead_ , and if this had gotten to Shido, we would both be by now!“

Akira realized that maybe he had missed a point and this was in fact not about Akechis appearance as a minor celebrity, seeing as they were suddenly talking about murder. 

_Oh great, and here it is. Thanks Akechi, what a segue._ He tried to salvage from that what he could, opting to at least ease into the topic on a slightly more positive note. 

“Yea, and if it hadn’t been for you, we all would have been yesterday. Thank you for saving our hides back then. We all really appreciate it”, he said carefully, hoping his voice could appropriately convey his sincere gratitude. 

It was an olive branch extended after they had already pointed their swords at each other’s necks, but Akira had to try. Unfortunately, Akechi was having none of it, his face hardened into something more cool and calculated. It was not his usual detective façade, it was more true to his real self than that, still polite, but aiming to keep the conversation civil instead of pleasing a crowd. More self-assured. 

“Let’s skip the unnecessary pleasantries, shall we? We both know that I was the reason you got arrested in the first place, and I did not save your sorry asses yesterday out of the goodness of my heart. Whilst I appreciate that you did not kill me when you had the opportunity, I can only assume that the fact that I am here and not in a cell, which again, I appreciate, is that you want something from me. So what is it?”

Akira listened carefully, and he gave himself some time to think about his answer. Akechi scanned his face for any change in his expression, analysing every twitching of muscle as they seized each other up in the stretching silence. 

The question itself was loaded. Akira was unsure how to interpret it. _What do you, Akira, want_ vs _What do you, the Phantom Thieves, want_ , because there was a huge difference. One was personal, the other practical. Akechi could mean either. He could mean both. It was another game, and he doubted there was a definitive answer. Akechi wanted to see how he interpreted it. 

Normally, Akira would have risen to the challenge of another mindgame. It had been fun, in the past. But that was before they had all suddenly found themselves in mortal danger. Yes, the game had been sort of fun, but Akira couldn’t afford to gamble any longer. Cards on the table.

“We”, he started, putting emphasis on the word, “want, first and foremost, information. There are a lot of questions we have that only you can answer us. We _also_ could use your support in the Metaverse. I’m not gonna lie, I have no idea how you actually did it, but that was one of the coolest things I have seen in my life and we could definitely do with more manpower. And as I said, I don’t know all the details, but the fact that one of Shidos own cognitions admitted that there is a prize on you as well suggests to me that the both of you may not be on the best of terms at the moment.” 

There was something flickering across Akechis face at the mention of that, too brief to analyse, but enough to confirm that Akira was right. 

“We want to take that bastard down, and if there is something in it for you, I’m sure we could come to an agreement of sorts.”

Akechi nodded. “I would gladly see that asshole go down in flames, and burn in hell thrice over.” He averted his gaze, and Akira was surprised to see the hatred that burned in his eyes at the admission. “Information on him, I’ll gladly give you, as long as I’ll get to be there when he gets what he deserves. But I don’t promise you anything more than that.”

Akira gave a brief nod. “The others will come by later, so we’ll continue then. I know you hate to repeat yourself.” It wasn’t a jab, just an acknowledgment of that fact. So far, so good. Now to the difficult part. 

Akira planted both hands on the counter and leaned a little forward, just enough to threaten Akechis personal space. It was his turn to analyse his opponent, and he would be damned if he missed any of Akechis already sparse tells. “Now”, he began, “as for what _I_ want…”

_I want you to stop running away._

_I want you to trust me._

_I want you to believe me._

_I want us to stop fighting._

_I want to hear you admit that you care._

_I don’t want you to be alone anymore._

_I want to be your friend._

_I want to spend time with you._

_I want to help you however I can._

_I want you to be safe._

“I want you to stop pretending.” It was the only thing he could say, at the moment. It was the most important. It was the only one that wouldn’t immediately send him running. Anything else would have to wait. 

Akechi didn’t even as much as flinch at the demand. He just sat quietly, resting his chin on his hands, contemplating as he tried to read between the lines of Akiras statement for additional information. Whatever he found, he seemed content with it. 

“Very well”, he raised one finger, “on the condition that you do as well.” There was a hint of that self-satisfied, smug grin that Akira had seen on a few rare occasions before. He wasn’t sure what Akechi believed he had won here, but he didn’t find it in himself to care. He had an inkling as to what it may be, but he could confirm later. 

Akira smiled, involuntarily, as he leaned back and extended a hand. “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sojiro, awaiting Futabas return at 2:30 in the morning: Care to explain yourself, young lady?
> 
> Futaba: Okay, look, I'm really sorry, but the main quest got incredibly grindy, the level design was shit, the enemies respawned after every cutscene, we picked all the wrong dialogue options and had, like, five boss fights, nearly ending in a TPK, and THEN we also got a new temporary party member, which prompted a bunch of sidequests, but at least one of them is his redemption arc, I think? 
> 
> Sojiro: What does that even mean? Are you speaking english? What are those words?
> 
> Futaba, rolling eyes: TL;DR is you have custody of another kid for at least a few weeks. 
> 
> Sojiro: ...of course.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this inbetween 11pm and 4:30 am, so please excuse the poor spelling and grammar, I'll fix it later

After that, the conversation got put on hold, the significance of their new pact not allowing for a quick change of topic. Neither of them minded, Akira was busy pouring coffee and getting breakfast started, and Akechi rested his chin on his hands and alternated between watching him and staring into space, clearly lost in thought. 

Akira himself went through the motions more by memory than anything else. He needed to come up with a new, improved plan of action, and with Akechi as an ally, so many new options presented themselves. 

The plan for Shidos palace would not change much, they would have to return sometime this week and make sure that the letters did indeed open the door and that there were no other obstacles behind it, but Mona had been pretty confident that the treasure was indeed there, so it was more a formality. Then the calling card would go out and it would be Showtime. Pretty straightforward. 

It was the aftermath that concerned him. The cognitions had given them some insight, and the connections that ran between Shido, their previous targets and the Thieves themselves worried him. It was almost too much to be a coincidence, how every time they got into a new Palace, it was to help a future team member, and now it turned out that somehow all the Palace rulers had known Shido in one way or another?

Kaneshiro, Madarame and Okumura had been supporting him with money, Shujin academy had probably been linked _somehow_ , given what had happened to the principal, and Wakaba Isshiki and her research somehow tied into all of this as well, probably even the most significant link.

This extensive network was his biggest fear. He knew that to rise to the top, Shido would have needed associates, and these associates would probably be equally double-faced snakes that had a personal interest in his success, so when the Thieves would reveal themselves via the calling card, it would simultaneously set off another manhunt against them all. 

_”Normally I’m against harming a bunch of toddlers, but there is a considerable prize on you for information alone. Imagine what I’d get for your actual heads.”_

For now, Akira was officially out of the picture, but that apparently hadn’t deterred Shido from coming after his friends.

His own brief experience in police custody had shown how far his influence stretched, and Akira was determined to do whatever it would take to keep his team safe. 

_Now, now, for that one, we actually do have a commission._

And starting three minutes ago, that also included Akechi. Already he felt the vague notion of a new plan forming in his mind, but he needed something more than his own speculation to go on. Meaning he needed to get Akechi to tell him _honestly_ just how deep in trouble he was. 

“Alright, I know I said we could leave the talking until the others arrived, but time is of the essence, and I need to do some prep work”, he began, matter-of-factly. “From what I gathered, that last cognition was an assassin, and a member of the Yakuza on top, and he said that he ‘had a commission for you’. What do you know about that?”

Akechi took a sip of his coffee, carefully setting it down and leaning back a little, arms crossed and brows knitted slightly together as he explained. “Unfortunately, not a lot. I have heard about him, but Shido keeps his connections in that direction very well hidden. The things I know are things he told me on purpose, to keep me in line. You already have most of the facts I have, that he is a killer for hire and all. He takes care of the people that either can’t be located through the Metaverse, or those that need to vanish a little more discreetly.”

“I honestly expected that I would eventually make that acquaintance. But the timing seems odd to me, so close to the election Shido can’t afford any negative coverage, even if they’re just rumours, and there _are_ things he needs me for, even if it’s just a little longer. There are those that only ally with him because they fear the black mask. I can’t say for sure that they know my real identity, but I honestly can’t imagine Shido would just toss his most valuable bargaining chip aside before he had his position secured.”

Akechi delivered his speech like he was talking about the weather, not his own impeding death. It sent chills down Akiras spine, although he tried to appear equally indifferent. 

But to see that he apparently had thought this all through before, and that he had yet to mention anything even remotely resembling a countermeasure, something that someone as calculating and clever as Akechi should have accounted for, that made something inside Akira tremble and shiver with fear. 

_Oh Akechi, what was your plan after killing Shido?_ Akira had a dreading feeling that he could guess what Akechi expected to happen, that he had _accepted_ it. He wanted to break something, to grab Akechi and shake the answers out of him, to shout at him how stupid he was, to reach over the counter separating them and just kiss him until they both stopped thinking, but he kept it together. This was still business. 

“What I personally suspect”, Akechi continued, oblivious to Akiras inner turmoil, “is that Shido already planned my assassination, but that it is scheduled sometime after the election, maybe in February, but hardly sooner. That could of course change if he suspects that I am after him, or maybe it’s something he planned in case he had a sudden mental shutdown, to get revenge from beyond the grave. So I should be alright for now”, he concluded. 

Akira nodded, quiet, he didn’t trust his voice right now. Refraining from telling Akechi just how not alright this was, he went over to the sink and mechanically started rinsing the jars he had placed there earlier, counting seconds as he breathed in and out slowly. His ideas were starting to take shape, like the silhouette of a treasure before it materialized. 

“What does Shido know about the Phantom Thieves?” He tried to sound casual, but he heard how his gritted teeth morphed his voice into something lower, aggressive. He hoped Akechi could tell it was not directed against him, but he didn’t dare turn around. 

There was a brief, curious pause, until the other started speaking. “Shido knows that their leader is dead.” Another pause, porcelain clinking as Akechi took a sip of his coffee. “I know it’s not impossible for him to find out, not if he goes to the police records after you got arrested, but…” he trailed off, growing more quiet as he spoke. Akira kept his eyes on his task, waiting. He could almost _feel_ the internal struggle Akechi was having. 

“He still needs me. To eliminate the rest of the Phantom Thieves.” 

Akira dropped a jar. It shattered. He should have known this, but he had hoped that Shido would have been satisfied with cutting the head off the snake. To hear that he wanted all of them dead was something he should have seen coming, but it was still a shock to hear his worst nightmares confirmed. 

He finally turned, and Akechi quickly averted his gaze, staring into his coffee, even carding a hand through his hair to hide behind it. “He doesn’t know any of your names”, he quickly shot out, “It was one way to make sure he can’t get rid of me yet, and I also gave him wrong information regarding your numbers. He thinks the Phantom Thieves are at least sixteen people, and I told him that we only ever met in the Metaverse, so he shouldn’t be able to connect me hanging out with the lot of you to… You know…” 

Akechi hadn’t sold them out. Hearing this alone made Akiras heart soar and his resolve harden. It may have been motivated by more practical and selfish reasons, but nevertheless, he’d had the opportunity to doom them, and instead he had protected them, even lying on their behalf. 

_I’ll get you out of this. I’ll get us all out of this, if it’s the last thing I do._

“Thanks, Akechi.” He thought about his next question, if it was maybe too personal. Maybe if he shared first…?

“You know about my probation, right?” Akechi, caught off-guard by the sudden change of topic, looked back up in confusion. 

“I am aware, yes. Why?” he asked cautiously, not knowing what to expect from this. 

“How I was accused of assault?”, Akira continued, looking questioningly over his shoulder to see Akechi give a slow nod. 

“Well, it was a false accusation. I was on my way home, late in the evening, after studying for upcoming exams with friends. And I came across this guy harassing a woman, trying to get her into his car despite her desperately trying to get away. So I stepped in. I put myself between them, and I tried to tell him off, to reason. That’s when I noticed he was drunk. Like, really drunk. Could barely stand on his own. And then he tried to grab me, probably to shove me away, yelling at me to get lost, and the stupid ass trips over himself, and goes down, cutting his head open on a lamppost. And then, for some reason, he calls the police, and the next thing I know is that I am in custody and accused of assault, even if I never even touched him. And you know the worst of it? The women he tried to get into his car backed him up!” he exclaimed, noticing how he had gotten worked up during his retelling. 

His breathing was faster and he relived the anger and frustration he had felt back then, the helplessness, the feeling of isolation as no one had believed him, not even his own parents, and how by the time he had been shipped off to Tokyo, everybody he had ever known had turned their backs on him. 

Akechi was watching him, curious but guarded. Akira didn’t know if he had already guessed where this was going, but he continued anyway. “So imagine my surprise when I found out a few days ago that the asshole that got me arrested, that destroyed my entire life, made everybody I ever knew turn against me; my own parents are ashamed of me; imagine how I felt when I found out that it was Shido that did this to me.”

Akira took a deep breath to calm down. Akechi was looking like he had seen a ghost. His eyes had grown impossibly wide as he had listened to the last part of his story, and his lips were parted, as if to protest without knowing the proper words. His face had gone paler than usual, and he was gripping his cup hard enough to make his knuckles stand out white under his skin. 

“So, you see, he is the source of all our problems in more ways than one. Our targets have all been somewhat personal in the past, as you no doubt already figured out, but the irony behind this one is undeniably something else”, he concluded, watching carefully. He waited. He knew that Akechi could probably guess what he was trying to achieve here.

After a long minute of silence, he finally got his answer. “Masayoshi Shido is my biological father.” It was a whisper. To Akira, it might as well have been a gunshot. 

His mind went immediately back to their conversation in the bathhouse. Akechi had told how his mother never wanted him. How she had eventually committed suicide because she couldn’t take it anymore, the implications that had been there as he mentioned, off-handedly, how he had gone through multiple foster homes from then on, and that he had never known his father. 

Yes, Shido had ruined Akiras life, and those of more than one of his fellow thieves, even if only indirectly. But this? This was infinitely worse than his own story. And he could only guess about Akechis past at this point. He didn’t even know what to say. 

“He doesn’t know, by the way”, Akechi followed up as the silence stretched on. He was not meeting his gaze. “I found out when I was fourteen, when I found some documents from my mother. She had filed a claim for child support, but of course he had paid his lawyers to shut her down”, he laughed bitterly. 

“Shortly after, I met him for the first time, after I sought him out and found out he was supporting a research project on cognitive pscience”, he continued, now clearly lost in the memory. “They were looking for volunteers for some data collection, and I applied, just on the off-chance he would be there. I don’t even know what I was hoping to achieve back then.” 

“Of course he wasn’t there. But during their preliminary questioning, I noticed the Metanav-app on my phone. It had just… shown up. I clicked it, and then I found myself in Mementos, together with some of their researchers, but I was the only one in armour. Soon after, he wanted to meet me, and it felt like fate… I wanted to take him down, but his Palace was too much, so I bid my time, and the rest is history. By the time I knew how badly I had fucked up, it was too late”, he finished, still sounding awfully detached. 

Akira knew that this was just a small glimpse behind the curtain, like reading the summary on the back of a whole novel, but it turned his view of Akechi on it’s head. Mainly because he noticed two things, one about Akechi and one about himself:

 _They used you, and you didn’t want any of this, and yet you couldn’t fight back._ It was more Akechis body language than what he actually said that gave him away, but it was clear as day to Akira. There before him was somebody who had given up, someone who was tired beyond the point of caring. 

And the way he felt his heart breaking at the sight, at how _broken_ he sounded at the admission of his own mistake, and how Akiras first instinct was to reach out, to protect, his willingness to sell his own soul just to take the hurt away, he realized another thing.

 _I love you._

It left him speechless. He froze in place, mid-movement, reeling from the revelation. 

His friends had teased him about his crush since June, Ann and Ryuji _delighted_ to embarrass him at any given chance, Yusuke jumping in with the occasional weirdly cryptic and yet spot-on remark, Morgana just growing more resigned every time he dropped everything where he stood because Akechi had invited him to hang out, and Akira had taken it in stride, because that was all it was. A crush. 

Something he would eventually get over, something he could never have, because they knew Akechi had at least some secrets, because he was plainly not interested, because he was planning to kill him. And yet…

And yet. He had a mission. He had more pressing problems. He had yet to react to Akechis speech. It had been only a few moments of silence, but they grew more oppressive with each passing second. What was he supposed to say after _that?_

His hand slammed into the wall, and that finally got both their attentions. “He’ll pay”, was all Akira heard himself saying, and they continued to follow their own thoughts in agreeable silence as they ate breakfast. 

Afterwards, as he was cleaning up, Akira had finally recovered enough to reach out once more, even though it was a twisted admission fuelled by his own seething hatred. “Goro.” It earned him a questioning look, but Akira kept soldiering on, remembering their mutual promise to stop pretending. “We will defeat him. We will. And I don’t know if I ever told you this before, but whoever is the one involved gets to make the final call.”

Akechi cocked his head in question, not quite knowing what Akira was saying, but intrigued nonetheless. 

“What I am trying to say is that, whenever we reached the ruler of a Palace, the decision to spare them was left to whoever had been hurt the most. With Kamoshida, it was Ann, Madarame was Yusuke, Kaneshiro was Makoto, and so on.” Akira swallowed heavily in trepidation. 

“And… I thought that Shido was mine. But… even though he destroyed my life, I don’t think I have any say in this. Hell, in a twisted kind of way, I even have to thank him, because I can think of at least three good things that came from that circumstance. And because of that, I don’t think what happens to him in the end is my decision after all”, he said, looking at Akechi, unblinking as he delivered his conclusion.

“What I am trying to say”, he repeated, “is this: It’s up to you whether he lives or dies in the end. I won’t judge, and the others won’t, not if I tell them I relinquished that judgement to you.” He took a deep breath. “But I’ll tell you this as well: If Shido doesn’t confess to his crimes, if he doesn’t admit to framing us, we’ll be public enemy number one once more. And I personally think that death is a mercy he doesn’t deserve, not if he could be forced to live in guilt for decades instead.”

The incredible significance of the moment made him lightheaded, and suddenly, without his own conscious input, Akira found himself reaching out to put his own hand on top of Akechis, gripping tightly as he pleaded the other to understand what he was failing to put into proper words, feeling himself shake in anger and frustration and fear and despair as their gazes locked, burning grey against deep crimson. 

“Do you really believe that your righteous Phantom Thieves would go along with that?”

Akira barked a laugh at that. “Did I say something funny?” Akechi asked, clearly cross with that reaction. Akira gave him a wolfish grin. 

“You know, for all the investigating you did on us, I think you have a very wrong picture of us. We’re not righteous”, he admitted, leaning forward. “Whatever we have done in the past was not because we’re altruistic, trying to better society for the hell of it. It was maybe a part of our decisions, something to justify them. But every single target had given us at least an equal amount of personal reasons to warrant our attention. I think you even made that argument yourself, once: We are not good people.” _Either_.

Akechi said nothing. He stared at their hands on the counter. “You may be right”, Akechi said quietly, icy. “And you can stop pretending.” He withdrew his hand, slowly and deliberately, leaving a hollow feeling in Akiras chest. It ended the conversation for good, as he abruptly got up to put his empty plate away and disappeared to get dressed immediately after. 

Akira first busied himself with the dishes, putting the one extra jar up onto the shelf despite knowing already that Sojiro would definitely notice the missing ones, and then slipped into the bathroom himself to get dressed as soon as it was free once more. He had plans for today. There was a lot of work to be done, more than he could have possibly anticipated. _We’ll be fine. We have to._

After he was dressed and presentable, he pulled his phone out, typing away in multiple chats at once to get his plans into motion. And most importantly…

**The PTs**

**Joker:** Meeting at 3:30 PM at the hideout.  
 **Skull:** Got it  
 **Queen:** Got it.  
 **Noir:** Alright  
 **Fox:** Confirmed  
 **Oracle:** K  
 **Panther:** Sure thing  
 **Queen:** How is the situation with Crow?  
 **Joker:** There’s been some development  
 **Oracle:** Is that what we call the shelves now  
 **Fox:** What is that supposed to mean?  
 **Oracle:** Nvm  
 **Joker:** As your leader, I would like to ask you to keep that particular conversation civil.   
**Panther:** Here it comes…  
 **Joker:** And as your friend, I would like to ask you to try and be nice. He’s really trying here, and we need his support.   
**Noir:** …fine.   
**Skull:** Whatev you say buddy  
 **Queen:** I’ll trust your judgement.  
 **Oracle:** Kk  
 **Joker:** Thx  
 **Joker:** <3

He pocketed his phone again, once again overwhelmed by the responsibility as he realized just how much the others trusted his decisions, to go along with his request so easily. 

He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to shove the sudden dread aside. If this was a mistake, he would have sentenced them to death. But Shido was hunting for them anyway, and there was nothing he could do about that aside from hoping and moving forward. This was going to be their last heist. After that, they would put their masks aside and never touch the Metaverse again, not if he could help it. It was too dangerous.

“Something the matter?” Akechi asked, and Akira was grateful for the familiar condescending tone in his voice. 

“Nothing important. We’ll be meeting up at three thirty, just so you know.”

Akechi nodded in acknowledgment, and he was about to say something. 

They got interrupted by the phone on the counter ringing. Again. Akira sighed and picked up, feeling trepidation building in his chest. Was Sojiro on the way and Futaba was at least merciful enough to warn him?

“Futabaaaa~…?” He stretched the last syllable, his voice raising in pitch as he awaited the news. 

“Akiraaaa~!” Futaba crooned back, parroting the intonation. 

Immediately, he felt himself frown in pre-emptive disapproval. “What did you do, Futaba?”

“What makes you think I have done something?” she asked innocently. Too innocently. 

“Tell me what it is or I’ll hang up without helping you.”

“Akira, friend, buddy, pal, remember when about… eighty-seven minutes and twenty seconds ago, I totally promised to keep Sojiro away from Leblanc and you promised me eternal gratitude and also that you owed me?”

“I remember that, yes. Why?”

“Because, hypothetically speaking, let’s assume, for the sake of the argument, that, to keep Sojiro busy, I maybe, or maybe not, tossed something into the tree outside our house and now we can’t get it down, and I would, theoretically, really need a hand here, would you come over and help?”

Akira sighed. “Sure. Can it wait another half an hour?”

“Hmmmmmm, maybe not, I mean, the faster the better? No pressure, though.”

“What did you throw?”

“…”

“Futaba Sakura…”

“It’s Mona.”

“It’s WHAT?!” he shouted. “I- You- Futaba!” Akira was out of words. “You tossed Morgana into a tree? Are you serious?”

“Well, _you_ said to keep Sojiro busy, and it was the first thing I could think of!”

“That doesn’t mean it’s okay to toss my cat out of a window! He could have gotten hurt!”

“You didn’t specifically forbid it either.”

“I- You know what, fair point. Really. In hindsight, I’m not even surprised. I’m just-“

“Don’t say it.”

“-as your kind of adopted brother, I am very disappointed in you.”

“Noooo, I said I’m sorry!”

“You didn’t.”

“I said it just now. Please help us?”

“Fine, I’m coming. That makes us even, by the way.”

“Deal.”

Akira hung up, face in one hand, squinting through his fingers at Akechi as another memory resurfaced and he had a _brilliant_ idea. 

“Akechiiiiiiiiiiiii~”

“No.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“I am not getting your cat out of the tree”, he said, sipping his coffee in the most disinterested way possible. 

“But think about it! Both Morgana _and_ Futaba would owe you”, Akira tried to appeal to his calculating persona. “And I know you go bouldering as a hobby, climbing a tree would be _nothing_!”

Akechi straight-up ignored him. Tough crowd.

“Pleaaaaaaase?” he begged, complete with puppy-dog eyes and all.

“Don’t tell me you can’t manage to get your own cat out of a tree.”

Akira pouted. “I could totally do it, it’s just that my hookshot is kind of a Metaverse feature, and without it, you are just the more qualified person for the job.”

Akechi gave him a look, raised eyebrow and everything.

“And as your leader, I therefore volunteer you!” He pointed at Akechi to underline his statement. “Unless you want to admit you can’t do it.”

There was a bout of silence. “I can’t believe I am agreeing to this.”

Akira clapped his hands before heading out the door. “Let’s go, then!”

There was no verbal answer, but the footsteps followed him outside. They both pulled up the hoods of their respective clothing to hide, but it was thankfully a short walk. Akira led them around the house to the small backyard with the old and gnarly tree, following the distressed cries he could hear coming from its bare branches. 

As they stepped around the corner, they could see Futaba and Sojiro standing underneath it. Futaba was leaning against the trunk, looking at something on her phone as if she didn’t have a care in the world. There was a short stepladder next to Sojiro, who was scratching his head as he looked up towards a small bundle of black fur. 

Morgana was clinging to a branch with all four feet, giving a cry whenever it started swaying in a gust of wind. As he was looking toward the ground, he spotted them the moment they came around. “Akira! Finally! Please, get me down!” He was about fifteen feet up. 

“You have to be kidding me”, Akechi commented under his breath. Akira was inclined to agree. They had jumped down far greater distances in the Metaverse not twenty-four hours ago. 

Futaba glanced up as the cat announced their arrival, grinning sheepishly. She did not even look remotely sorry. “There you are. Oh, both of you. Almost didn’t recognize you there!” If she was bothered by Akechis presence, she made an excellent job of hiding it. 

Sojiro was not as subtle. He did a double take, confusion clearly written across his face, before turning to his daughter. “Is he that friend that’s staying over?” he asked her. 

“Yep”, she stated, popping the ‘p’. “Congratulations on your third child. He’s working with us now.” She sounded so sure of herself that Sojiro didn’t even question her, instead glancing over at Akira with an arched eyebrow as if to say ‘Is she serious?’. Akira just shrugged and held his palms up. ‘Nothing to be done about it.’

“Just don’t go causing me unnecessary trouble. I’m an old man, my heart can only take so much thievery business. Now come get your poor cat down here, Akira!” And just like that, it was settled. Akira thought that Akechi staying over would be a long discussion with a minor chance of success, but Sojiro just accepted it – either he was really done with their shit by now or he had already tired himself out yelling at Futaba for tossing their mascot into the tree. 

Akira walked up and craned his head backwards, arms crossed. “Morgana, just jump. You’re a cat, you’ll be fine.”

“I am NOT a cat! And I will not be fine! I have much shorter legs, the distance to the floor is proportionally bigger for me then it is for you! I’ll DIE!”

Akira held his arms up. “Just do it, I’ll catch you.”

“Absolutely not!”

“Trust me!”

“No.”

“You guys are pathetic”, Akechi said as he shoved Akira aside and jumped to haul himself up onto the lower branches. He made it look like it was nothing, reaching the cat within seconds and plucking him off his branch by the scruff of the neck. 

“Oh god thank you so much, I’ll be forever indebted to you-“

“Catch.”

“-I’ll meo _waararrhgh_!”

Akira had barely enough time to readjust his position as Akechi tossed Morgana down in his general direction with little fanfare. He caught him just fine, and was rewarded with claws digging into his arms and scratching up his hands. 

Akechi followed suit, jumping and barely missing Akira, rolling with the landing and already dusting himself off by the time Akira had even processed it. Futaba gave a thumbs-up without looking away from her phone. 

“I take everything back, I hate all three of you”, Morgana grumbled, squirming out of Akiras grasp and trotting over to Sojiro. 

“Hey, what’d I do?” Akira asked, mock hurt in his voice. 

“You did nothing, and that’s precisely the point. Sojiro is the only one here that cares about me!”, Morgana explained, weaving around Sojiros legs and ignoring Akiras protest as he demanded, “Sojiroooo, feed meeee!”

“Yes Sojiro, feed us!” Futaba chimed in, the promise of breakfast finally prying her away from the screen. 

“Alright, let’s go to the café then”, Sojiro relented, bending down to pick the cat up. 

Within seconds of stepping inside, Sojiro zeroed in on the top shelf. “What happened here?”

The three kids behind him exchanged quick glances, and just as Akechi opened his mouth to speak, Futaba cried out “It was Akira!”, pointing an accusatory finger, at the same time Akira stammered “I’mreallysorryItrippedandkilledafewjars.”

Sojiros gaze flickered between the two of them, trying to find a flaw in their testimony. “It’s not like you to trip up like that.”

 _Think quick, Akira!_ “Um, yea, I tried to pick one up and for some reason my ribs suddenly really hurt, from, erm, you know.” His ribs were fine, but the bruises were still visible enough to get away with the excuse. “I’m fine now, though.”

“Let me see.” The only thing worse than an angry Sojiro was an angry, concerned Sojiro, so Akira obliged as he pulled his shirt up, revealing the faint smattering of pale green and yellow blotches. He poked at them with extra force, just to show that he was indeed fine. “See? Not even bothered anymore.” 

Sojiro seemed only partially convinced. “If you say so”, he grumbled, and vanished back outside without further commentary. 

“What about my breakfast?” Futaba cried after him, but she settled into a booth and waited instead of following. Akira slid onto the seat opposite, and they exchanged a small high five to celebrate their successful ruse. 

Akechi, who had been hovering near the door, went back to his spot at the bar, but he sat so he could face them. “Why’d you lie about the jars?”, he asked. 

“Because Akira can play the pity card and get away with it scot-free. And I personally would rather not listen to one of Sojiros monologues, because once he gets started you can’t skip them”, Futaba explained on his behalf. 

“I see.” Akechi gave Akira a probing look. “What happened?”, he finally continued, gesturing vaguely at Akira. 

“Oh, I got beaten up pretty badly when they arrested me, but it’s fine now”, he said cheerily, waving a dismissive hand above his head. It was not a big deal, compared to some Shadows. Yes, the fact that the injuries had to heal naturally instead of magically vanishing had been inconvenient, but nothing was broken and he was also not dead, so there. 

There was a beat of uncomfortable silence, and Akira mindlessly babbled on to fill it. “It’s really okay, I mean, they also drugged the hell out of me, so it’s not like I remember much, y’know?”

Akechi looked like he had been slapped. “I’m… sorry about that.” What? Oh, right, he had gotten him arrested in the first place. Akira didn’t know how to deal with _that_ version of Akechi. The admission shocked him. 

“Hey”, Akira added, softer. “It’s alright. I promise.”

Akechi finally looked at him, before he nodded. “Alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sojiro: Okay, so I never actually wanted a kid, but I now have a kid, and I'll work it out- No I don't want _another_ kid, thank you, okay; so now I have two kids and a cat.
> 
> Two kids, a cat, and the friends of my two kids who are wanted criminals, I have seven kids, plus a cat that's apparently not a cat, alright. So is that detective kid an enemy or a friend, I don't know anymore, fuck it, EIGHT kids, a cat, grey hair and heart problems it is!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me to Myself: I have this idea for a Fic, so I'll just jot down some bullet points, nothing serious, maybe 10 to 15 chapters total?
> 
> Myself to Me: According to the bullet points, this scene should be at the end of chapter two. 
> 
> Me: So?
> 
> Myself: We are at 5. This is out of control. 
> 
> Me: Omg you are right.
> 
> Myself: I know, we need to tone it down a little, there's uni and stuff, you know? Speed it up, scrap some filler. 
> 
> Me: ....
> 
> myself: No
> 
> Me: So let's make it Royal and add the third semester
> 
> Myself: Did you listen to anything I said?
> 
> Me: No. Send help :)

It was a small admission, but it was the closest they had come to addressing what Akira called “The Plan”, because that was what his (very creative) team had dubbed it during their strategy meetings. He was just glad that the contents of The Plan had been subject to more scrutiny. 

Akira barely remembered anything that had happened, his last thoughts had been filled with worry, hoping that everything had worked out and the others had gotten away, and he vaguely recalled the dread rising as he had been led deeper and deeper into the bowels of a building that consisted of endless grey corridors, knowing fully well that he might never get out of it alive, and more pressingly, that his captors had no love for him whatsoever. 

There were flashes of his “questioning”. The cameras had been turned off. He had signed something. Sae, that wonderful devil of a woman, had swept in to his rescue, even though he barely remembered their talk, but with how loopy he surely must have been, it’s a miracle she even stayed. 

He very vividly recalled a blue butterfly. He would have written it off as a hallucination, had it not spoken with that soft, angelic voice that he sometimes heard when he established a new bond, or that sometimes faintly echoed through the cell in the Velvet room, hidden from the others. He was sure it was a friend, now. 

He was actually very curious about Akechis point of view during that most recent game of theirs, starting from the school festival, and especially what happened after they split in the Casino, but he was scared to ask. Before, Akira had liked to entertain the idea that Akechi wouldn’t actually follow through with his assassination, that he maybe managed to reach him just enough to make him reconsider. 

He knew even back then that it was a dangerous train of thought. He could not rely on Akechi maybe coming around on the grounds of their one-sided friendship. They had all heard the steel in his voice when he had phoned Shido, not even the slightest hint of remorse as he delivered the news of his “death”. Akira still had the glove that had been thrown at him with the admission of a “I hate you.” 

But there was that tiny, nagging voice inside him that insisted that Akechi would not have gone out of his way to hang out with them when they invited him for billiards if he was really that uncaring, even if he just liked showing off. 

Or that he would have shown Akira the Jazz Club in the first place. Or gone shopping with Ann, or bouldering with Ryuji, or come around to their school on his way to work to pick up the care packages Makoto had made for her sister whenever Sae worked overtime. Gotten Morgana out of a tree. Risked his own life, saving them all before they got slaughtered on a forgotten walkway on a ship. 

He wouldn’t have apologized after promising to stop pretending. Hell, he never apologized before! That all must count for something, right?

He pondered the implications of Akechi showing up in the Palace in the first place. It could have been a coincidence… But no, he had surely been trailing them, at least for a little while. If he knew to expect them there, he also must have known that Akira was alive, and how would he have found out in the first place if not by figuring out that they had wanted to trick him? The question was if he figured it out before or after shooting the cognition…

He noticed that he had apparently gotten lost in his own head when Futaba kicked him under the table to get his attention back. “I’m sorry, what?” he asked. She was glaring at him, but the way she was chewing on her lower lip and rapidly tapping at her screen told him she had found something important. Meaning a Futaba-definition of important. Aka, most likely world ending. 

He immediately sat up straighter, slipping on the mask of the leader as he quelled all stupid daydreams to make room for more important thoughts. He cocked his head at her, to ask whats wrong. 

“It may be nothing, but…” she quickly glanced at Akechi, who was trying to seem preoccupied by staring into nothing, but they could tell he was listening. Akira waved his approval, he personally was okay with him knowing, if Futaba didn’t mind it either. 

She sighed. “Crow, get over here!” she ordered him and pointed at the seat next to Akira. It was truly impressive how much better she had gotten around people, even though she was still insecure if left on her own. But it was a complete opposite energy whenever she unearthed some vital information. Right now, her excitement overshadowed everything else, so she had probably (definitely) some incredibly important news to share. Unfortunately, Akira could also tell it was probably bad-ish news. At least nothing _good_. 

Akechi obliged and slid into the booth, now with open curiosity. Futaba immediately started her info-dump. “So, spoiler alert, but I have your phone hacked and monitored.” Akechi, interestingly, put one elbow on the table to prop his chin in his hand, his thinking pose, and nodded calmly. “I figured. Is that how you got Shidos name?”

“Yea”, Akira confirmed. 

Akechi grinned, all teeth and malicious glee. “Good.”

Huh. 

“Well, since we exited the Metaverse, an unregistered number called your phone five times. I tried tracing it back, but nothing comes up. Do you know anybody whose number ends in 9342?”

The grin vanished instantly. “That’s one of Shidos burner phones. What the hell does he want now?” The last part seemed to be more directed at himself. 

“One way to find out”, Futaba said and offered him the phone. “It’s ringing right now. Just make sure to put it on speaker.”

Akechi looked like he was being handed a live grenade. He closed his eyes as he slid his thumb over the green button. “Yes?” he croaked out. 

“Oh, do we finally have the decency to pick up now?” It was a little morphed by the small speaker, but it was unmistakably Shido that was speaking. “Just who the hell do you think you are? I’ve been trying to call you for the past six hours!” It was Shido, and he was _pissed_. Compared to this, Akiras own brief encounter had been harmless. 

“I’m very sorry, sir, there just hasn’t been an opportunity to safely talk before”, Akechi answered, after a short silence clearly demanded it. He sounded strained, like he was trying to get into his TV persona and failing ever so slightly. He was staring at the wall, and if looks could kill, that particular part would be erupting into flames right now. 

Shido made a dismissive noise. “Where even are you right now? I know you are not at home.”

Akira perked up at that. Had he really checked Akechis house? Had someone been there? Or was it a surveillance thing? Was that house even safe anymore?

Akechi meanwhile was trying to come up with a suitable answer. “I’m out at the moment.”

“The whole night? Are you serious?” Shido growled. “I personally don’t care if you’re out drinking and sleeping around the city again, but I swear to god, if any rumours start up because of this, there’ll be consequences, you hear me? You can’t afford negative press right now, not this close to the election. And in any case, you are supposed to be available! Can’t you even get that right? How difficult can it be to answer a phone call? If I have to wait for a return call more than twenty minutes one more time, I won’t leave it at a verbal reprimand! Have I made myself clear?”

Akechi was visibly grinding his teeth, and there were blotches of colour creeping up his neck and across his cheeks, whether from anger or embarrassment, Akira couldn’t tell. He was too busy being angry himself. 

“Yes, sir”, he spat. “I was in the Metaverse.”

That at least seemed to interrupt Shido in his rage. His voice dropped several degrees as he asked “Did you find something?”

Akechi glanced at Akira. “I have, actually”, he said carefully.

“Good. Come by my house in an hour. I want a full report. Unless that is an issue…?” It sounded more like a challenge than a question, and Akechi quickly reassured him. “It won’t. I’ll be there.”

Shido hung up without further commentary. 

Akira didn’t know how to react. What the actual fuck? Was this normal? Akechi half-threw, half-slid the phone back to Futaba, and rubbed his face with both hands, sinking back in his seat. He refused to look his way. 

Futaba was his saving grace, once again. “Man, am I glad that asshole ditched us”, she commented. 

Akechi resurfaced to stare at her. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing. It’s just- well, he’s technically my father, although the only one that deserves that title is Sojiro”, she explained, her stare intense as she gaged Akechis reaction.

 _Uh-oh._ Akira had known about them, but those secrets were told to him in confidence, and he wouldn’t have snitched to save his life. He wasn’t surprised Futaba figured it out, she had done so much background searching this summer, but he would have hoped that she would tactfully leave that revelation for a more opportune moment. 

“Oh. Really?” Akechi answered flatly. “So do you know that…?” Apparently, Akechi could see right through her. 

Futaba nodded. “Took me a lot of digging, but yea. Anyway, since you’ll be going to his house, do you think you could manage to sneak some surveillance gear with you? Sae says we need more dirt on him if we want to get him convicted of all the charges she wants to press.”

“Depends on what you want. I’ve been there before, and he keeps surveillance in his office, and he has hired security. So I can’t be too obvious- Although I suppose I do have some liberties that come with my abilities.”

The sudden change in conversation left Akira reeling. Was that it? They were done with the big revelation just like that? Wasn’t there supposed to be more talking? Hello??

“Alright, here’s what I’m thinking. Anything connected to the internet is no problem for me, but if he has a separate server, or better still, physical copies of documents and the like, it could be what we need. But we need to know what to look for. So I created a nice little helper that’ll give me an in. Security staff and cameras is already good, I’ll try to hack into their server to see if they have floor plans, shifts, footage from the cameras, anything. Also, I have been working on a prototype for a small, remotely controlled drone that would be really useful if we can get it inside his house unseen. It’s small, so the battery lasts only for about forty minutes, and it can’t open doors or windows, so if you could try and get that into his office-”

“Why don’t you just attach a camera to your cat?” Akechi interrupted her. 

Futaba blinked twice and apparently didn’t mind the interruption, thinking. “Yes, why don’t we send Morgana to snoop for us, Akira?”

Akira could think of several reasons. “First: How are we going to get him in and out? Second: What if he gets caught? And hurt? There’s no way I’m risking that.” 

Akechi rolled his eyes. “Getting inside won’t be a problem, you carry him around everywhere and people have yet to notice. And if they see him, he can just hop into Mementos and track back to the nearest exit.”

“But Mementos is underground?”

“Are you guys actual fucking idiots?”, Akechi asked, incredulous. “You are aware that Mementos exists basically everywhere? You _told_ me that it’s the public’s Palace. It’s not restricted to the subway!”

“B-but- I remember checking the exit behind us, and there was just a door?” Akira tried. 

“Yes. A door. Have you ever tried _opening_ it?” 

Had he? He couldn’t remember. They always exited there, but via the app, not the actual door… Had it really never occurred to him that the publics Palace extended beyond? They had never really needed to go there, everything they wanted was to go deeper down, because that’s where Morgana insisted the secrets awaited…

“What is even out there?”, he asked Akechi, hoping they could skip the whole ‘You are an idiot’-part. Strangely, it worked. 

“Honestly, not much. It’s more of a slightly distorted city than anything else, although there have been quite a few changes in the last year. There are almost no Shadows, and the cognitions of the people don’t even seem to notice when I pass by. I try to avoid them, though. I’ve been seeing a few with really distorted facial features, like they are grinning, and something about those doesn’t sit right with me. But aside from that, it’s a perfectly safe way to travel unseen. It can be entered from basically anywhere, although you can only exit at the subway entrances, for some reason.”

Akira leaned back and twirled a strand of hair in his fingers, thinking about what he could do with this new knowledge. He could see how useful this was, although he didn’t quite understand the limitations, but then again, it was the Metaverse they were talking about. He was suddenly reminded of his first day in the City, when he arrived in Tokyo. How time had suddenly stopped at Shibuya crossing, and what he now knew to be Arséne had appeared in the distance.

Futaba was tapping away with renewed vigour. “Alright, that could totally work. I need to adjust a few things, but I can be ready in ten minutes. This topside Metaverse works basically like the Nether, you said?”

Akechi was confused. “What is a Nether?”

“You are disowned”, she immediately shot back, deadpan. Akechis confusion grew. Akira had always thought it hilarious how socially awkward he became whenever he failed to predict the direction of the conversation. And reacting to Futabas randomness was a challenge even for Sojiro. 

The Thieves had learned to just roll with it, but seeing Akechi try and follow the rules and norms of social conversational standards whilst Futaba was just being herself was pure comedy gold. He had admitted that figuring out Akira was difficult for him, a welcome challenge, but Futaba was on a different level. Yusuke somehow made more sense. It was endearing to watch. Unfortunately, they were on a time limit. Again. 

Akira decided to help, before Futaba could go on a rant. “It’s fast travel in a video game, but only for people who can do math. Besides, shouldn’t we ask Morgana if he is okay with this? Where even _is_ he? Did Sojiro catnap him?” Akira looked around the interior, but no cat. 

“Mona went voluntarily. He’s moping”, Futaba supplied. 

“Drama Queen”, Akira mumbled, and speak of the devil, Morgana jumped onto the table after the ringing of the bell announced the return of Sojiro and him. Sojiro put a crate with glass jars down (the right kind this time), and tossed a small cardboard package at Akira, who identified it as painkillers. The strong stuff that was almost certainly prescription. 

“Take these in case you need them, and don’t do any heavy lifting. I’ll put your stuff down here for the moment.” _Bless you, coffee dad._ Akira felt just guilty because he was indeed fine and there was truly nothing to worry about, so he kept his eyes down in shame as he thanked him. 

Futaba, again, didn’t care. “Mona, you’re going on an infiltration mission to Shidos house, hold still so I can get this ready!” She grabbed him before she even finished her sentence, plucked a small microphone out from _somewhere_ under the table, were there had surely not been one before (Yes, Akira had searched for the bugs more than once) and started to tie it to the yellow fabric around Morganas neck. 

“Wha-? What do you _mean_ , what is happening, do I get a say in this? First you throw me out a window, now this? Akira, help me, she’s crazy!” 

“You’ll be fine, Akechi is going with you. He can explain the rest, I need to do some prepping”, and with that, he ran upstairs to empty out the catbag and fill it with some supplies that would be typical for a Metaverse stakeout without blowing either of their covers. 

Akechi had neither his usual coat (or it’s contents) nor his case nearby, and Akira hoped it wouldn’t matter. If Shido got suspicious… Akechi would be on his own in there. The surprise of the sudden call and the following promise of new information had briefly erased the looming dread of a killer on their heels. 

As he came back downstairs to hand the bag over, he could see that Monas scarf looked positively heavy with electronic equipment, and currently Futaba was working a second listening device into the collar of a begrudgingly complying Akechi, who tried to look unbothered as he explained their course of action to the cat. 

Sojiro was watching with unveiled disapproval, but he remained behind the counter, for now. 

Akira set the bag on the table. “Here, I filled it with some random stuff we use for our own trips. I don’t know how you usually handle yourself, do you think this’ll work as reasonable cover?”

Akechi eyed the contents of the bag. “Should be fine. I doubt I’ll be searched either way. He can’t have his security staff find something incriminating now, can he?”

Akira shrugged. “I’ll trust your judgement in this one. Anything else we need to do before you head out?” It had already been ten minutes since the call ended, and although Akira didn’t know where exactly this house was, he imagined it to be a fancy part of town, and those were all a considerable distance from the shabby backstreets of Yongen-Jaya. He was not happy with the improvised solution, but the opportunity was too good to pass up, and there was no time for an extended strategy meeting. 

Akechi shook his head. “As long as your cat does his part, I don’t expect any problems. Hmm, I told him I have news on the Metaverse. Anything specific you want me to tell him?”

“Just… maybe something to mislead him on our identities? Or better yet… Does he know Mementos expanded whenever we took down a palace? Could you convince him that it is blocked or collapsed since I died? Would he believe that?”

Akechi shifted. “He might, he has a pretty good understanding of the basic concepts, but there is no way for him to check. However, no Mementos means that my usefulness would drastically decrease…” _and he might decide to kill me early_. 

“Fair point. Then tell him the opposite. Tell him a whole new part opened up and you don’t know what to make of it yet, but there’s a considerable amount of Shadows in there. Oh, and that it might lead to the Thieves Den. Does he know about that?”

“He doesn’t, but I can make that work. He’ll probably expect me to go after you, if I do that.” It was a statement, but Akira heard the question underneath. 

“He is after us anyway. But at least this way, he can’t send the Yakuza after you yet.” It was also a statement, but there was reassurance. _We have your back_. 

“ _Yakuza?_ ” Sojiros disbelief was clear as he interrupted their small bonding moment. “Whenever did Yakuza get involved in this?” _Welp, that was a mistake_ Akira thought. 

“Please don’t worry, they are solely after me, and I will be leaving now. Thank you for your hospitality.” Akechi was back to his “normal” polite self, bowing briefly before gathering the literal cat in the bag and making for the door. 

“You stop right there, young man! I demand an explanation, from all of you.” To his credit, Akechi actually stopped. Smart. 

“Unfortunately I am in a bit of a hurry. Shido hates to be kept waiting, and I fear his paranoia might send him looking for me if I don’t appear on time. Kurusu knows all the important details.” He was still trying to be polite, but the slight twitching of his hands and his lips gave him away. 

“Fine, you can tell me in the car.” Sojiro had his jacket still on, but now he also grabbed his hat and keys as he moved out from behind the counter. 

“…The car? I don’t have a car.” Akechi seemed lost. Akira smirked. Apparently Futaba was not the only one who was unpredictable. Sakura family: 2, Akechi: 0

“I am aware of that fact”, Sojiro grumbled. “Come on, I’ll take you there, and in exchange you will tell me exactly what is happening here.”

Akechi blinked, surprised. “That is a very kind offer, but I wouldn’t want to trouble you unnecessarily. I will be fine taking the train, I assure you.”

“I will be _troubled_ if the _Yakuza_ kidnap you on your way back. Now get a move on, I don’t have all day. Akira, clean those jars. Futaba, you help.”

The bell rang again as they left. 

“Akira?”

“Hm?”

“Feed me.”

“Feed yourself.”

“He’ll be fine.”

Akira closed his eyes. “I know.” _They all have to be_. “It’s just… Did you hear what Shido said?”

“Which part? The one where he has him under constant surveillance or where he was being a hypocrite?”

Akira laughed bitterly. “Both. But I’m more worried about the surveillance. We can’t- We cannot be found out before we send the card. But we are facing a whole organization, not a single person this time. And Shido knows so much about the Metaverse… Our only saving grace is that there is nobody who cares about him once he loses his power, but that means we need to take it _all_ away from him. If we are not thorough, if we mess this up, if he gets to wriggle out of this in the real world…” 

Akira started pacing, running his hands through his hair. Futaba was the only one he could trust with this, show how concerned and scared he was without undermining morale. She was smart, a genius despite her young age, and he loved her like a sister. Maybe she could help. 

“If we find this evidence we are looking for… Will we be dooming Akechi? Is it wrong that I want to get him out of this completely? I mean, I know he is the black mask, that he caused the mental shutdowns, but he was manipulated to some degree at least, and he didn’t have help in the Metaverse, I mean, we nearly killed Kamoshida, it was a risk we were taking, am I overthinking this? Is it even possible to deny his link to Shido? What if someone else knows he is the black mask and tries to kill him or recruit him or… Argh, I don’t know what to do!”

Futaba had been ignoring his breakdown completely and was roaming through the kitchen. Her voice was a little muffled as she spoke into the fridge. “I don’t know why you believe the shut-in would be a good source of advice for your interpersonal troubles, but if you want me to, I can fudge whatever I get to the best of my abilities. No promises, though.” 

“You would do that?”

“If it helps you sleep at night. Hand me a plate.”

Akira dragged himself up from the floor to oblige. “I mean, we don’t know for sure but… He may have been involved with the death of your mother, you know? And Harus dad. I’m not just ignoring that, but-“ Futaba slammed the fridge shut. 

“I don’t get to speak for Haru, but I don’t blame Akechi. I blamed myself for the longest time, and it sucked. Blame doesn’t get people back. The only one responsible is Shido. He wanted the research, and he gave the orders. Akechi was… like what, fourteen when it happened? Fifteen? No fourteen-year-old can be held responsible for something like that. And I would know!”

“Futaba, you founded an international ring of cybercriminals when you were fourteen.” Akira couldn’t help the jab, but he shut up when she glared at him. 

“I don’t care what happened”, she said more quietly now, “I have a wonderful family right now. It’s good. And there’s nothing wrong with caring about your boyfriend-“

“Not my boyfriend.”

“-I actually think it’s nice, how you can care so much despite everything. It’s what saved my life, so why not save his as well? If it makes you happy, I’m on board. I owe you that much.”

“Futabaaaa…”

“Don’t hug me- Noooo! Let go! Get another victim- I love you too, _release me_!”

She sat down with her food and groaned. “Urgh, it’s wayyy too early for these philosophical discussions. Why can’t we discuss something else? Like the fact that I am related to an absolute heathen who has never played Minecraft?”

“Yea, what was up with that? You can’t just drop the whole half-sibling thing and then move on like it never happened. I thought I was hallucinating!”

Futaba shrugged him off. “It’s not like it changes anything. I know, he knows, and he’s still an asshole and a heretic. I mean, even _Inari_ was at least aware that the Nether is a thing that exists. What’s next? He doesn’t know how to play Tetris?”

“Do you want my input or are you just going on a rant about the cultural significance of virtual blocks?”

“I’m ranting, but please listen.”

And so Akira got to space out for the next half hour. He did as Sojiro asked and cleaned the new jars, filled them up and put them in their places. He prepared some more coffee. Then he swept the floors properly, and went hunting through the corners for the last escaped coffee beans (and Futabas surveillance gear). 

When he heard a phone ring and Futaba yell “Akira, get ready!” he hit his head on the underside of a table in his hurry to comply. She had set up her laptop as well, and there were dozens of tabs and windows overlaying each other as she furiously clicked through them to get the one she wanted. There was an incoming video call. Akira checked the caller ID twice, one hand already flying towards his pocket. 

“Why is my own phone calling us? Futaba?!” She accepted the call and got a Morgana-POV from inside the bag, the picture grainy and dark because of the low light. They barely caught a gloved hand retreating through a small opening and zipping the bag shut completely, so only the screen of Akiras phone, which must have been nestled into the scarf, shed a dim glow through the interior. 

Futaba confirmed that the audio worked both ways before explaining her rushed setup. “What, did you expect me to magically throw a new device together that allows communication and video when we live in the twenty-first century and your phone was _right there_?”

“Yea?”

They had to hush their conversation as they tried to listen to the proceedings on the other end. The video call went both ways, but Futaba had it set up so she could push to talk, to avoid accidentally drawing attention. Audio from Morgana came back via the laptop, and Akechis feed was coming through her phone, with headphones attached so the two didn’t overlap. 

Futaba would focus mainly on Morgana, because she knew better what to look for, and Akira would listen to whatever Shido had to say, because his planning depended on that intel. 

Unfortunately, between only having to phones at hand and Akechi being under more scrutiny than an officially non-existent cat, their communication was one-way after Morgana would split to roam the house. The not-cat had assured them that despite not having known about topside Mementos, he could feel that it was there if he concentrated, and he would indeed be able to escape if he needed to. 

Right now, all they could hear was a slight static rustling, presumably fabric scrapping against the microphone. A few words of greeting exchanged with the guards. A shift in audio quality as they entered the building. Then “Would you excuse me for a moment?”

Futaba tapped his arm as she finally got video back. “Duty commenced!” she stage-whispered. They watched from Morganas perspective as he cautiously peered out of the bag. His chin blocked the top third of the screen, and it was a little shaky as the scarf moved with his head motions. He finally hopped out of the bag and they could see a bathroom that was probably worth more than the entire café they were in, all modern but garish with marble and gold inlays. 

Futaba wasted no time getting started. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes, but you are very quiet”, Morgana whispered back. 

“That’s on purpose, use your cat senses or whatever.”

“I am not a cat! Anyway, do I go now?” That last part was directed at Akechi, who was staring at the mirror and seemed to be fixing his tie or something. He quickly looked down towards them, before turning back around and gripping the sink. “Wait a little after I’m gone. There are stairs down the hall to the left, if you go up and then right there is a door at the end of the hallway that no one is allowed to even touch. You might want to start there.”

The camera shook as Morgana nodded and went off to hide behind a large decorative plant to await his time. Akira could very quietly hear a steady exhale and then an even quieter “Okay, you can do this” before there was a door opening and the footsteps resumed. 

Akira turned away from the video to keep distractions at a minimum as he listened closely for anything that might be a clue. He clicked his pen, ready to write down anything that he deemed important. Futaba was recording this, but it always helped to write his own thoughts and questions down, before they got away and disappeared forever. 

Eventually, he could hear a sharp knocking sound. That house must be massive if it took that long to walk to the office. If there was a sign for Akechi to enter, the device didn’t pick it up, because the next thing he heard was Akechi saying “You wanted to see me.”

There was a long pause, probably well over a minute, although to Akira every second stretched to eternity as he waited. He was tempted to ask Futaba to check if the device was broken, but she was busy helping Morgana navigate, and he could hear the rustling, so it had to be working. 

God, he wished he could see what was happening. He hated these moments when he was forced to sit back and send his teammates forward alone. He was supposed to be the leader, he should be the first to the frontlines. He knew it just sometimes wasn’t feasible, and he couldn’t solve all their problems in their stead, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. 

Finally, the silence was interrupted. “So.” Another pause. “You said you found something.”

“Yes, sir. I went to Mementos yesterday, and another part has opened up. The Shadows there are quite strong, so I could not explore too far, but I believe it might lead us to the Phantom Thieves.”

“Finally. Took you long enough. Elaborate.” Shidos voice was quiet, like he was further away than normal speaking distance, but it was just as steel-cold as it had been on the phone earlier. 

“They have their own, sort-of Palace in the Metaverse. It’s called the Thieves Den, and they use it as a storeroom for their weapons, supplies and loot. Their leader had a way of accessing it at will, and he barred it from unwelcome guests and Shadows alike, but with his death I believe that this barrier has fallen. I need to do some preparation, but I believe I could find some clues as to their identities if I manage to get there.”

Akira was impressed at how smooth of a liar Akechi could be. Not surprised, but impressed. And now that he was on their side, also a little proud at how easily he played the cards in their favour. He sure was a powerful ally. 

“Good. Do that. And whilst your down there, see if you can find Ooe, Hamamoto, Yamasaki and Ishihara. They can’t be trusted any longer. In fact, feel free to take it up with anybody that seems suspicious. You know what to do.”

Akira tensed up. Was this a kill list? Four people plus the Thieves and who knows how many more? This was insane!

“Do you really think that would be wise, so close to the elections?” Akechi asked. Akira winced internally. _Wrong choice of words_ , he knew. Why couldn’t he ever keep his stupid mouth shut? The silence after that felt hostile. 

“I believe that is none of your concern. You just go along and do as you are told, unless I have a reason to doubt your usefulness as well? You’ve been quite the disappointment this past month. Hardly worth the money I spend on you. And now you come in here and try to tell me what to do?” Shido had grown quieter as he spoke, and the last parts were difficult to distinguish. 

“No, sir, of course not! I was merely concerned, is all”, Akechi tried to back paddle. 

Akira suddenly heard a sharp exhale of breath and then something that sounded like stone impacting on hardwood. 

“Don’t try and get cocky here. You’re lucky that you managed to kill their leader, but you’ve been awfully useless since. You’ve had months to figure out who they are! If I didn’t know already that your detective game was exactly that, I would be hard-pressed to believe they let you do anything else than make coffee and work the printer! So stop arguing with me and go do as you’re told.”

“Yes, sir.” 

“And you better have some results by the end of the week. Maybe paying for your own bills this month will motivate you. Now get out of here.”

Akira had never been so relieved to hear a door open and shut. He looked back to see what Morgana and Futaba were doing, and tapped her arm to get her attention. 

“Akechi is coming back. How’s Morgana?” On the screen, it was once again too dark to distinguish anything at first glance, especially with all the other open windows. Futaba was hyperfocused on her work. “We’ve barely gotten started.”

“Damn it. Tell the others they don’t have to wait for him then. He can take the train to Shujin and get picked up there.” He knew Morgana would complain, but if he could manage to get from Leblanc to Okumura Foods on his own, he would be fine getting to the school. 

Futaba typed a message to Sojiro in lightning speed and proceeded to ignore Akira. He was still half-listening in, but after he confirmed that Akechi was back outside and on the way to Sojiro, who was parked a short distance away, he took the headphones out and tried to get in on whatever Morgana was currently doing. 

By the time the bell to the café rang, they had found folders that Futaba was positively ecstatic about. Akira had been ignored the entire time, so he got up and poured some coffee for all four of them before he updated them on their progress himself. 

Sojiro was gruff and annoyed, his cover to not let his worry show, and Akechi was back to his perfect, polite mask, as if he had been out for a walk and nothing more. He didn’t say much, didn’t say anything really, but Akira noticed that he was drinking his coffee with his right hand. 

Feeling that he would have a better chance of success if he made this a private conversation, he waited a little before tugging at his sleeve and motioning towards the stairs. 

They both remained standing in the middle of Akiras room. 

“How are you?” Akira asked without any delay. He tried to ask as the leader making sure his team was functional, but he couldn’t help the concern leaking through. He knew Akechi didn’t want to be pitied, and Akira could understand that, but Akechi also had a hard time distinguishing pity from sympathy and plain concern. 

As expected, he immediately went into defensive mode. “Do you really think that little of me that you expect some small talk to affect me?” Akira sighed deeply. The day was not even halfway to over and he was already exhausted. 

“I just noticed that you were not using your left hand”, he said carefully. 

“So? You know I’m ambidextrous. I’m fine”, he shrugged. Again, with one shoulder. 

“No, you are _pretending_ to be fine.” There was a rapid flicker of expressions that vanished before Akira could decipher them, before Akechi settled on a scoff and something close to disdain. 

“Alright, you got me. So he threw a paperweight at me. What of it?” Was that the sound he had heard? If so, the thing must have been really heavy. 

Akira took a small step closer and gestured to the shoulder. “Show.”

“It’s nothing.”

“You’re lying again. And I’ll be the judge of that.”

“I can take care of myself just fine!” 

“Yea, like paying for your rent, heat and water?” It was a low blow, and Akira immediately regretted it, but it was so easy for them to rile each other up. Akechi was speechless for a moment, probably from anger by the look on his face.

“At least I have a place to live, and don’t have to crawl up into some trash attic I leeched from the store owner each day. You don’t even have a door!” _And here we go again_. Akira put his hands up in a placating gesture. His will to apologize had left through his non-existent door after that, but he decided to be the better man and not rise to the bait.

“Look, I just want to help, okay? So show me, and if it’s nothing, then great, but I need to know you are not going to be hindered by anything when we go into the Palace. So either quit being stubborn or you’ll stay here.”

Akechi glared at him, but apparently that fight wasn’t one he wanted to have either. Without further commentary, he undid the top buttons of his shirt and slid it off his left shoulder. 

Akira was somehow not expecting that and found himself in a stupor as his poor brain tried to process and failed miserably, taking its higher functions with it as it shut down momentarily. 

It was nothing he hadn’t seen before, they had been to the bathhouse together, but the current environment somehow didn’t help. Thankfully, the almost fist-sized dark purple bruise that blossomed across the skin right underneath the collarbone was a reasonable enough explanation for his staring. It wasn’t as much the shoulder as the whole area leading up to it that was affected. Akechi, who was defiantly staring at something off to the side, was already in the process of putting his shirt back on after allowing a short glimpse. 

“See? Nothing to worry about.” 

“Do you want me to hand you a dictionary so you can read up on the meaning of ‘nothing’? Because I think you have it wrong.” Akira was thankful that his brain had rebooted, and he determinately stepped up and caught the others wrist, pulling it and the fabric it held back down. 

“There’s nothing broken, is there?”

“I think I would have noticed.”

“Good. Give me a moment.” Akira started to rummage through a box on his desk that contained some questionable ointments and pills courtesy of Takemi, but there was no denying the fact that it had worked miracles on his own wounds. He thought that the stronger stuff was maybe not needed for this, so he settled for a salve that was supposed to reduce swelling and double as a local anaesthetic, and he got some painkillers out for good measure. 

Akechi was watching him expectantly from the sofa as Akira came back with his findings, prattling on about what they were for and how often to use them. He was still distracted, and he absentmindedly found himself unscrewing the container when he suddenly re-entered reality and stopped to think what he was doing.

 _Should I…? Noooo, nonononono, he can do that himself, oh god brain, please, why did we have to go there, nononono, he will kill you for real and he would be right, nope!_ “Here you go!” He shoved container and lid at Akechi with more force than necessary and fled down the stairs with the flimsy excuse of checking in on Morganas progress, hoping he made it out of sight before his blush became too prominent. 

As he was halfway down the stairs, he stopped to shout “By the way, you’ll be staying in the trash attic as well, so don’t insult my _room_ , or you’ll get the couch!”

As expected there was no answer, but the silence felt not as hostile as before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the Velvet Room: 
> 
> Margaret: So, Lavenza dear, I have been wondering, how exactly does your version of the Shadow World work?
> 
> Lavenza: Well, it's basically all about the subconscious cognitions of the people that shape the distortion of their perceptions, and those flow together to create a vast system.
> 
> Maragret: Yes but what are the limits? How far does it spread geographically? Is the whole world affected? Just Tokyo? And if so, why? Do unaffected countries notice something is going on? Would it remove the Shadow World if we evacuated the city?
> 
> Lavenza: ....
> 
> Margaret: You have no idea do you?
> 
> Lavenza: Look I'm here to hold a book and register Personas, not conduct experiments to test the limits of parallel world physics.


	6. Chapter 6

The attic was crammed by the time the last of his team had taken their seats, and Akira was in a great mood because this time, they were complete again. He wished they could just hang out for a few hours and enjoy the company instead of cutting the planning especially short because they had a lot of things to accomplish. 

Futaba was already getting started on her end, present only physically, as she sat cross-legged on the bed to sort through their findings. Morgana was asleep next to her. His expedition had gone smoothly, but after three hours of sneaking around and then a long trek to the school, he was done for the day. Cats. At least Akira had his phone back. 

Nevertheless, he would need all of them to listen, so he clapped his hands loudly once to signal the start of the meeting. “Alright everyone, listen up! We now have all the letters we need to advance through the door to Shido. I want to send the calling card as soon as possible, but we need to confirm the location of the treasure, meaning one more trip to secure our route. Ideally, that’ll be over quick, which leads me to my second point: That Cleaner we met in the Palace. I want to know what he is up to exactly, so we’ll try and locate him in Mementos to question his Shadow. We’ll take today and maybe tomorrow to prepare, but we’ll go Wednesday at the latest. Questions so far?”

Makoto raised her hand as she spoke. “Do we have a name and are we going to change his heart while we’re at it?” Always two steps ahead. 

Akira shook his head. “We don’t have a name yet”, he said, “but I have an idea how we might get it. It’s the reason we might need that extra day.” He turned to Haru. “Haru, I want you to go and ask Iwai about him. We have a description, and he seemed like a pretty infamous character, if he really is good enough to get Shidos attention. He might have heard of him. Just tell him it’s important and that I sent you, he still owes me for that whole kidnapping thing. And whilst you’re there, see if you can find us some nice upgrades, we’re looking for armour especially. I’ll talk to you later about the budget.” 

Haru was their accountant and responsible for dividing their prize money to the Thieves funds and their personal accounts. Before, everybody had just taken their share with them after a heist, but she had taken one look at that system and immediately opened them all separate accounts, so they wouldn’t have to run around with wads of cash in their wallets. Akira wasn’t sure how much money they had gotten yesterday, but the massive medicine restock plus new weapons might mean that he would have to forfeit his share this time. And besides…

“If anybody has special requests start writing a list now, so Morgana can sort them for priority. Anything over budget will have to come from your own wallets.”

Haru herself immediately went for a notepad and a pen and started scribbling something before handing it around the table. Akira continued “As for changing his heart, yes, that’ll be our priority on that trip. He’s probably after us and definitely after Akechi.” Murmurs started up around the table at that, but one raised hand from Akira got them to quiet down and be patient. Q&A was always after the briefing. 

“Which doesn’t mean he’ll have to be our only target. If we go down, we might as well make it count, so Ryuji, I’d like you to get in contact with Mishima and go over the requests on the Phan-Site, see if there’s anything we can take at such short notice.”

“Sure thing.”

“Good. Yusuke”, Akira continued, turning to his next friend in line. He was preoccupied with the snacks, but he sat up straighter as he was addressed, “I’d like you to go to Shinjuku and talk to Chihaya, get a reading from her. Ask her about Shido and the Cleaner as well.”

Yusuke looked out the window, thinking as he asked “Is that the lady we met once whilst shopping for electronics? With the excellent taste in clothing?”

Akira tried to remember that incident. Was it the one where they went looking for fans during the heatwave? The description checked out, at least from Yusukes perspective. “Yes, the fortune teller. Just please ask her to let you take a picture of the cards, or better yet, record the reading. She might be exceptional at what she does, but I haven’t told her about the confidant Arcana, and seeing it for myself adds a lot of context.”

Behind him, he heard Akechi scoff. “Something the matter?” Akira asked. 

“Do you really rely on _fortune telling_ to come up with your battle plans?” The disbelief was clear in his voice. Akira shrugged. 

“You’d be surprised. So far, she predicted all of the team by drawing their Arcana before they even joined, and most of the other confidants as well. In hindsight, she even told me you’d show up in the Palace.” He had gone to her just before tackling the Palace. The reading had surprised him, Justice, Strength, Death, Fool and the Wheel of Fortune. Justice and Death had been a recurring theme in the last weeks, and he would have never guessed that Akechi was going to _save_ them from getting murdered. Interpretation was always a little wonky, between assigning the cards their actual meaning and then also knowing when they represented a confidant. 

“And what did she say about your idiotic idea with Saes Palace, pray tell? Because that one was honestly insulting.”

“What do you mean? It worked out perfectly fine, in case you didn’t notice!” Morgana yowled, swishing his tail in anger. 

“Yea, sure. Because after three years of running through the Metaverse, I totally wouldn’t notice someone triggering the app.” Akechis voice was dripping with sarcasm. “Just what do you take me for?”

“Oh come on, you’re saying that to make yourself feel better. If you really noticed, why didn’t you just exit it again?” Ryuji asked through a mouthful of crisps. 

“Easy, to get you tools to open the door in Shidos Palace for me. If I can spite him in the process, all the better.”

“May I ask what grievances you have with Shido? It seems to me that you really despise him, and-“

“Aaaanyway”, Akira interrupted Yusuke, before this could turn into a full-blown fight, “what I’m saying is that Chihayas insight is invaluable and we can talk about this later. Makoto.”

Makoto readied her notepad as she was addressed. “I’d like you to go to Shinjuku as well and talk to Ohya. I need you to coordinate between her, Sae-san, and Futaba about some articles she could publish as soon as Shido has his change of heart, get the press to undermine his credibility to the public. We need his supporters to jump ship”, a few of them cackled at the unintentional pun, “and make it near impossible for his image to recover. Tell Lala-chan I said hi, by the way.”

“Will do”, she said with a smile. So far, so good. Now for the biggest issue. Akira tried to keep his momentum going as he addressed the man behind him without looking. 

“Akechi, Shido gave you a list for a lot of people and expects you to be in the Metaverse, so you’d probably best join me in the MIA-trend and disappear for a while so he doesn’t get suspicious. From what he said it is safe to assume that he has your house under surveillance, and I don’t think it would be a good idea if you showed up there. Just in case, I’d also like to toss your phone into the Metaverse so he can’t track that. I’ll get you a new one. Is there any stuff you need at any cost that can’t be replaced during a short shopping trip?”

There was a brief, very loaded pause. “Tossing the phone shouldn’t be a problem. Lying low won’t be an issue. I need some clothes and other necessities, and I can get a hotel for a few weeks. Just tell me when we head into the Palace.”

Akira briefly closed his eyes to steel his nerves. “I already told you, it’s fine if you stay here.”

“There is really no need. I’d rather afford a room with a _door_. In a place that isn’t the first one anybody would come to look for you once they find out you are, in fact, not dead.”

“You’re not letting that door thing go, are you…? Alright, if you dislike my perfectly fine room, so be it, but hotels can be traced, and Shido said he’d cut you off for the month, so if you want to stay somewhere else, anybody offering?” 

The last part was addressed at the rest of the team, and Ann immediately raised her hand with enthusiasm. “You can stay at my place! My parents are in America until April, and you can have a guest room all your own. Ohhhh, we can watch so many movies!”

Akechi wasn’t nearly as excited. “Thanks, but no.”

“Oh come on, why not? Lady Ann is making you an incredibly kind offer”, Morgana chirped from the bed. He sounded only a little jealous. 

“Need I remind you that I’m not your goddamn charity case? I’m here because I want to see Shido get what he deserves, and nothing more. Whether he has a change of heart or a mental shutdown, there’ll be people who are going to be very interested in my whereabouts, and do you really want to be associated when they find me? Don’t be stupid! You owe me nothing, and I don’t want to owe you anything in return, either. This is a purely practical partnership. We’ll go into the Palace as planned, and never meet again after that. I already promised I’ll give you any information I can, and help you in battle. There’s nothing more in it for you to play nice here, so quit it.” 

There was a shocked silence all around the table as the team stared at Akechi. His voice had been dripping with venom, like he was about to lash out at the next person who dared to speak up to that. Akira still had his back turned to him, and he didn’t want to be the first to break the silence. What was he supposed to do here? 

If Akechi didn’t believe that they wanted to help, how could he convince him? He knew the guy had issues, more than Akira was probably aware of, but this was just stupid. What was the problem with accepting a place in a trash attic? Was it pride? Was he thinking it was still a game of sorts and he didn’t want to concede to whatever he saw threatening his position? This morning had started out so well, or at least with good intentions from both sides, so why the sudden change? 

“That’s _it_ , I’ve _had it_ with you!” 

Anns voice cut through the oppressive silence as she shot up and stalked over. “Why do you always have to be so fucking extra? Is it a principle thing or are you just that dense? What’s in it for me, you wanna know? Really?! I’ll tell you what’s in it for me: I won’t have to go to your goddamn _funeral_ is what’s in it for me! Or do you just have a deathwish? Because I find _that_ hard to believe. So quit the fucking emo-lone-wolf-broody act. You need a place to stay, I am offering, and there is really nothing to it. I’m not even going out of my way!” 

“You’re not imposing, and you’re not a burden, I actually, genuinely think it would be fun. We are supposed to be a team here, so stop being selfish and maybe consider how other people feel for a change. Is it really that hard for you to believe that people would be _sad_ if you just up and vanished? I could name a few! So stop being a fucking coward, grow some balls and ask for help if you need it! Or at least give me a _plausible_ explanation as to why you don’t. Jesus, it’s really not that difficult!” She finally finished, out of breath, hands on her hips and glaring daggers.

Nobody dared to move. Akira had subtly pushed his chair backwards to get out of the way, and he could finally see that Akechi was equally shocked as the rest of them after that outburst. His eyes were wide with surprise, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times as he frantically tried to find an appropriate answer. Akira could pinpoint the exact moment he realised there was none. 

“Fine”, he relented, grimacing as if in pain at the admission. “I’ll stay at your stupid place.”

“Good!”, Ann clapped her hands, suddenly her usual chipper self. “Anything else?”

Akira could see Akechis jaw work as he ground his teeth. “I’ll need some clothes and stuff from my apartment.”

“Nu-uh, no way, Akira said that place is not safe”, Ann shook her head vehemently. “Just give me a list and I’ll go shopping for you.”

This time, the pause was longer, laden with embarrassment. They could all see the flush creeping up as Akechi crossed his arms defensively and stared intensely into a corner. “I don’t have any money. For that.”

“Dude, are you for real? How would you have paid for a hotel?” Ryuji was the first of the others to speak up, braver than them in the aftermath of Anns fury. 

“I would have figured something out!” Akechi bit back. 

Akira could see the scepticism on Makotos and Harus faces. Before this could escalate any further, he cleared his throat to get attention back. He raised his hands with open palms, folding back the middle- and ring finger of his right hand, plus the ring finger of his left, and then closed them to a fist, signalling everybody except Akechi, Haru and Ann to take their leave and get started with the plan. There was really no need to turn this into a public event. 

They begrudgingly filed back out, until only the four of them remained. Akechi, who was not yet familiar with their nonverbal communication, tried to sneak downstairs after them, but Ann caught his sleeve and dragged him back whilst Akira quickly whispered to Haru. 

“Do you still have the list for the money we made from Saes Palace and the trips to Mementos during that time?” he asked. 

Haru nodded. “I have a feeling I know where this is going. I don’t remember the exact numbers, but it was something in the neighbourhood of 150.000 yen for each of us, plus whatever we added to the funds. Want me to open another account?”

“Yes, and if there is anything left from yesterday’s earnings, take it from my share and add it as well. In fact, take another 100.000 from my account. I have enough.” Akechi had technically earned that money, so there would be no reason to refuse it. And he had no way to figure out that the math maybe didn’t check out 100%. 

“That is very kind of you, but please, allow me to donate a little extra in your stead. You already spend so much on our gear and supplies.”

Before Akira could protest, Ann and Akechi came over (or rather, Ann shoved him) to join the conversation, and Akira raised his voice to a normal volume as he continued. “Speaking of supplies, we still need to restock our medicine, so I need to know how much yen we made yesterday and how much we can safely spend on that without neglecting the weapons. If you could give me an update on our funds, Haru, I’ll go to Takemi myself later. Ann, I’d like you to come with and take the supplies to the Den, and then sort them so we are ready to go. Throw Akechis phone in there whilst you’re at it, and then I need you to go shopping for a new one.”

He turned to Akechi, who looked simultaneously angry and like he wanted to be anywhere but here. Tough luck. “Akechi, make a list with the stuff you need and hand it to Ann. Don’t worry about the money, we split our earnings between a team fund and pocket money, and we technically still owe you your share from Saes Palace and Mementos. Haru will get you an account sorted, but we estimate you’ll have… how much spending money, Haru?”

“About one million five hundred thousand”, she announced absentmindedly, already busy with her tablet. Akechi choked on air, and Akira barely kept it together himself. _Maybe I should have asked just how much she wanted to ‘donate’_. Her concept of money _was_ a little off. Instead, he nodded. “That’s a casino heist for you.” Hopefully nobody would ask. 

After Haru was done with the mathematics, she gave Akira their updated budget and made to leave for the “Untouchable”, before stopping on the stairs. “Akira, there is one more thing I’d like to ask.” He encouraged her to continue with a nod. “Akechi made an excellent point earlier. This café is not the best place to hide, they already searched it once, after all. Wouldn’t it make sense if you maybe also went to Anns place to hide for a bit?”

_What?_

“Oh, that is a very good observation, Haru!” Ann was immediately on board. Akira looked between the two of them, squinting suspiciously. Their smiles were _just_ a little too bright. 

“Besides, Akira, you said yourself that we are employing the buddy-system for the time, and you as the leader can’t be the only one alone. You can stay at Anns place, and Makoto and I will simply go to my own house”, Haru continued. 

Before Akira could protest, Ann passed by him, putting one hand on his shoulder, using the motion to disguise her whisper “Please, he shouldn’t have to be alone all day.” Right, Ann would be out for school and her photoshoots all the time. Akira sighed internally. How did she always know how to be kind? 

As she withdrew, she was back to cheery. “Alright you guys, let’s get moving, we don’t have all day. Akechi, you write me that list, I’ll be back after we are done at Takemis!”

With that, they set off on their little journey, waving goodbye to Haru as she split to head for the train station. 

“That was quite the speech you gave there. Didn’t know you could be so scary!” Akira joked as they walked. 

Ann made a small _hmmph_ before she answered “He had it coming. Seriously, would he have gone to sleep under a bridge or what? ‘I don’t have money’, yea, I guessed that! What an idiot. Can’t believe people think he actually has more than three braincells.”

“Same”, Akira laughed. “He’s lucky he’s cute.” Ann gave him a raised eyebrow and a smirk, but Akira cut her off before she could make the obvious joke. “But seriously, thanks for that. I wouldn’t have gotten him to agree to anything. He probably _would_ have slept under a bridge, just to spite me.”

“Well, what can I say”, she flipped one of her pigtails over her shoulder, “I am a force of nature. By the way, do you think you could organise dinner for us? I don’t think I have any groceries left, and I’m frankly not in the mood to be a good host today. Still tired.” She underlined her statement with a yawn. Akira could feel it too, despite having had the luxury of a comparatively relaxed morning at home. 

He had a brilliant idea. “Sure thing. How about I make us some pancakes?” It was intended as a joke, but the way Ann started first cackling, and then full-on laughing to the point that they had to stop walking felt a little over the top. 

“Ann, what’s wrong? It wasn’t _that_ funny, calm down!”

“Yea, but, Akira. Akira!” she wheezed, “he doesn’t know about that! He has no idea about any of that! How pancakes were his downfall!” 

“Oh my god you’re right.” Akira hadn’t even thought about that. 

“Akira. Akira, he can _never_ know! Don’t tell him, ever! It’ll be so hilarious!”

“I don’t even know what you are talking about. Pancakes? Never heard of them!” It took them a while to calm down, and they were still giggling as they stepped into the clinic. 

Takemi wasn’t remotely surprised to see them, she barely glanced up from her magazine as she asked them what they wanted. By the time Akira had finished his order and handed over the money in exchange for what must have been half of her stock, she was simply amazed, and a little bit concerned. They waved her goodbye with the reassurance that they would be careful. 

On the way back, Ann handed her keys to Akira. “Why don’t you guys go ahead and get yourselves sorted at my place? I didn’t want to mention it before, but you both look like you could use a proper shower, and I’ll almost certainly be late if I have to go shopping for a whole new wardrobe and stuff. Speaking of, any preferences?” she waggled her eyebrows at him. 

Akira rolled his eyes hard enough to make the motion hurt. “Please just be nice. And shouldn’t you ask Akechi that?” 

“Akechi dresses like an old person. Sweater vests, seriously? They were out of style before he was even born!”

“I think it’s kinda adorable. He makes it work.”

“He makes everything work because he’s just pretty like that, but he could do so much better. Just wait until I’m done! Also, seriously, you are responsible for dinner.”

Akira suddenly an _even better_ idea. “How about sushi? The good stuff? My treat.”

“Sounds great.”

They finally made it back to the café, and Ann, now a woman on a mission, lost no time waving goodbye, stopping only briefly to charm Sojiro into agreeing to their new arrangement. He had no choice but to concede, and even agreed to drive the boys over there.

Akira quickly packed his own stuff. It was getting late in the afternoon, and the promise of a hot shower and a fluffy bed in Anns apartment spurred him on. Akechi was still borderline offended after her lecture, and he stayed uncharacteristically quiet the whole time, seemingly not knowing what to do with himself. 

Akira was fairly sure he could sympathize, after all he had been left without anything and anyone as well, when his parents had decided he was too much of a disgrace to keep around, sending him off to the big city with only two small boxes and a bag. He had been lucky to make such fast friends with Ryuji, Ann and Morgana, and that he had at least his allowance and a place to live for free. 

Still, the first few days had _sucked_ , and he had been scared that he would have to spend his whole year at school isolated, but he also never would have begged for understanding, and he loathed the adults who looked at him with nothing but pity and disgust. In these situations, pride was often the only thing one had left, so of course people would cling to that. 

And that was without factoring in The Plan. Akira couldn’t understand himself how he had so easily forgiven Akechi for trying to shoot him. But between the apology earlier and the admission of knowingly sparing him, he simply couldn’t bring himself to hold it against him. Water under the bridge and all that. If Akechi really hated him as much as he claimed, he would have gone through with it, there was no doubt in Akiras mind. But he hadn’t. And that counted for equally as much. 

For now, Akira was content to give him some space, and so he let them into Anns fancy designer apartment with little fanfare, giving a small tour of the space and reciting the (very few) rules that Ann had for her guests, namely don’t touch her wardrobe, leave the shoes at the door and hands off the snacks in the bottom-most kitchen drawer. 

They each silently wandered into different corners of the living room after that. Akechi pretended to read a book on the couch, but he hardly ever turned a page, seemingly lost in his own mind. Akira perched himself on the counter of the kitchen island, sorting through his messages again. 

His friends had begun to send him updates on their respective tasks. Ryuji had taken on three additional requests for Mementos, and Haru confirmed that she had indeed gotten a name for them, Jin Ueda. She also sent a few pictures of the new equipment she had gotten them, and Akira had to wonder if she’d actually robbed the place. There was no way this was within budget. When he called her out on it, she only sent a smiley face back, and he was too scared to press further. 

Futaba said she would need an extra day to properly sort through the files she had gotten, and that in turn meant that Makoto would be held back on her end. Yusuke had yet to call in, but that was hardly a surprise. He was probably busy waiting for the sunset to get the perfect lighting on that video or something like that. 

When he got a surprisingly early text from Ann announcing her return, he pocketed the phone to get to work. 

Akira quickly set his stuff aside and placed a delivery order for the sushi. He had been over often enough to know his way around the two spare bedrooms (one was technically her parents’, but they were hardly ever there), so he readied them for the night before calling dibs on the shower. 

The hot water worked wonders on the tension in his sore muscles, and he realized how stressed he had been all day. He made the decision there and then to give his team the next day off, so they could all rest up before jumping into the Metaverse again. 

When he re-emerged into the living room, he found Ann enthusiastically showing off her findings to Akechi, who (finally) seemed to liven up a little as they looked through three shopping bags worth of clothing. Most of it seemed to get approved, and only three or four pieces were set aside in a ‘return’-pile. 

From what Akira could glance, Ann had gone all-out with her allowed budget, with at least five different complete outfits, two pairs of new shoes, a black coat with a fur-lined hood that was ideal to get around relatively unseen, and even a small assortment of accessories to mix and match. 

When Ann spotted him stepping up to the warzone, she assaulted him by holding up a red hoodie with gold stars printed on the front. “Akira, help me out here; what do you think about this one? It’s really nice, isn’t it?”

“I have the right to remain silent, but if Akechi doesn’t want it, I’ll take it.” It was a nice hoodie, and predictably, Akechi immediately snatched it just so Akira couldn’t have a nice thing. Ann just raised an eyebrow. 

“Shame”, Akira sighed in faked disappointment. “I ordered food by the way, so if you want to take a shower before, now’s your chance. You have about thirty minutes.” Akechi grabbed a pair of grey sweatpants together with the hoodie and stalked off without further commentary. 

“Sometimes I really question your taste in men, Akira”, Ann commented, folding the clothing back up and stuffing the different piles into their respective bags. 

“As if you would know anything about that”, he teased back.

“Hey, my taste in men is as good as it gets!”

“You’re lesbian.” 

“Precisely my point!”

“You know what, fair. But thanks for putting up with us anyway. Is it really okay for us to just camp out here for an indefinite amount of time?”

“Don’t worry about it. As I said, my parents won’t be back until April, and as long as you stay nice and quiet whenever they call, they won’t even find out. And I don’t mind. The company is nice.”

“Yea, can’t imagine they’d be happy to hear you are letting two guys stay over, and criminals to booth!”

“As if I’d be intimidated by you. And besides, I’d just tell them you are both gay, and therefore I am legally required by the agenda to grant you my support” she said, placing a hand on her chest in mock drama as she handed out plates with the other. 

Akira took them and helped set the table. “That is a valid point, even though it’s only partially true.”

“Oh excuse me mister, let me correct that, one bisexual, both entitled to support.”

Akira nodded. “And one straight guy, for the quota.”

“Who’s straight?”

“Akechi? Who are you talking about?” Akira was confused. 

The steady supply of silverware got cut off by a shocked gasp, and Akira turned to see Ann stare at him, eyes wide as saucers as she seemed to have stopped functioning completely. “Akira.” She stepped forward and cupped his face with both hands. “Akira, you are kidding me”, she whispered. “Akira, you can’t be serious. Please, tell me you are lying.”

“What? Why? What are you talking about?”

Ann released him and took a step back, turning around and taking deep breaths. “Oh no. Akira, no. You are _kidding_ me. You are lying. You are _lying_. This isn’t happening. Oh. My. God.”

“Ann, please, just tell me what you want.” He could tell that he had missed something, and that something was about to send his friend into hysterics. 

“Akira”, she started, putting both palms together in a prayer-like pose and pointing the joint fingers at him. “You _do_ know that he is gay, right? Please tell me you know that Akechi is gay.”

“ _He what?_ ” No, Akechi was always going on about his fangirls, how annoying they were, how he always had to turn them down politely, and- okay, maybe that wasn’t proof, but he had assumed…? And yes, Akira had flirted this whole time, and he had occasionally gotten a flirt back, but they had just been teasing, it was part of the game, wasn’t it? _Wasn’t it?!?_ It hadn’t meant anything. Right?

The internal struggle was clear on his face as he frantically replayed memories of their conversations. Akechi had told him that he hated him. That didn’t change. _But had he meant that?_ He had also been hanging around Leblanc for days on end. 

He looked at Ann with a pained expression. “You have no proof.” 

Ann started _howling_ with laughter. She wasn’t even capable of speaking anymore, but the looks and strangled sounds she gave him got the point across. _You are a fool of never before seen dimensions and I will laugh about this for years to come. Moron._ Tears were streaming down her face, and she was either hiccupping or sobbing by the time Akechi came back from the bathroom. 

Akira was still standing in the same spot, devoid of any emotion after going through the five stages of grief twice, left only with the urge to dig a hole and die in it. 

“Is… Is she alright?” Akechi asked, and the image they both presented must be worse than Akira had imagined, because there was genuine concern there. They both turned to look at him, and Akiras confusion grew for various different reasons. 

First, he had to do a double take on the person before them. There was definitely a resemblance to Akechi, but his damp hair was tied back into a ponytail, so his whole face was visible for once. At first, Akira thought he had a blush from the heat of the shower, but then he realized the unusual coloration on his cheeks and nose to be a myriad of small _freckles_. How had he never seen those before? 

“ _Wait, does he wear_ make-up?” Akira thought, and it was the only logical explanation. He was wearing the red hoodie and grey sweatpants, and the loose clothing made him somehow seem smaller than usual. His posture was more relaxed, like he was starting to finally get comfortable, his hands were casually shoved into his pockets, and one bare foot was rubbing against his other leg. 

He looked, in summary, absolutely adorable. Ann told him as much as she walked over to him on shaky legs, putting both hands on his shoulders before he could even react, and telling him in her most sincere voice “Akechi, I am sorry. I am so, so sorry.”

Akechi, clearly out of his depth, looked at Akira for help, but he was still mortified. Ann, still hiccupping and grinning like a madwoman, had her phone pressed against one ear as she made her way to her room. Just before she shut the door, Akira could hear her yell “Ryuji, you are not going to _believe_ the SHIT that just happened!”

“What the hell is going on here? I heard something that sounded like a dying animal all the way in the bathroom. Was that her?” When Akira didn’t react in any way, Akechi gave him a scrutinizing look. “And what is up with you?”

Akira shook his head, staring into the void. “It’s nothing, really, she just told me something- I found out that I am the dumbest person alive and I don’t know if I want to laugh or cry about it”, he whispered. 

“Please, do tell me more.” At least one of them was amused. There was another howl from Anns room, slightly muffled by the door. Akira prayed to every god that she wouldn’t rat him out to _everybody_. 

He tried to get himself back together. It really didn't change anything. Not a single thing, and that was the unfortunate truth. He would need some time to come to terms with his own idiocy, but even if Akechi had occasionally flirted back, it had still been over the top, a game and nothing serious. For now, taking down Shido and escaping the aftermath was their first priority, and if he was lucky, they might come out the other side as friends. And he would be fine with that, when just three weeks ago it had seemed like an impossible thing. 

Now he just needed something to steer the conversation away and onto something less confusing. 

The answer to his prayers came in the form of their food delivery. He bolted towards the door as soon as the bell rang, happy to have something to distract himself and the others from _that_. 

By the time they seated themselves around the table, they all had their composures back together, at least somewhat, and the food was a good new topic of conversation. 

The hole that sushi left in his wallet was well worth it. Although he tried to hide it, Akira and Ann could tell how excited Akechi was from the way his eyes lit up and he leaned closer and closer as they spread the dishes over the table. They made it a game to find out what Akechis favourites were and then proceeded to act like they both really didn’t want those. If Akechi picked up on it, he didn’t show, he was too busy berating them for their poor tastes, but without any real bite behind it. 

It was almost easy to believe that they were just a bunch of friends having dinner, without any deadlines and fights looming on the horizon. Ann gushed on about her girlfriend and retold the story of how they had finally gotten together with the help of a whole cake, way too many flowers and a strategically misplaced cat. 

Akira had heard it many times before, but it was still amusing. Even Akechi couldn’t help a genuine grin at the image of a scorned Morgana jumping out of nowhere, shouting objections, when all they wanted to do was try the new cake recipe Haru had come up with to celebrate Shihos recovery. It hadn’t even been a date. 

By the time they finished eating, it was late evening, and since they were all tired from the exhausting night before, they decided unanimously to go to bed after washing the dishes. 

As Akira crawled underneath the sheets, he reviewed the days’ progress in his already sleep-addled brain, and when his head finally hit the pillow, he was out like a light, with a satisfied smile on his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing funny to write for this one, so let me explain their made-up secret code language instead. Akira has each team member assigned to one finger, in case he needs to direct them nonverbally or over greater distances, (planning courtesy to Makoto): 
> 
> Right hand
> 
> Pointer finger - Ryuji, he is the first mate, and his Arcana is the chariot bc he carries our asses  
> Middle finger - Ann, already an association before they came up with the signs  
> Ring finger - Haru, bc it's more difficult to move independently, so they skipped it until they had no other choice  
> Pinkie - Morgana, he is the smallest and they thought it was funny
> 
> Left hand
> 
> Pointer finger - Makoto, strategist, needs to be addressed fairly often  
> Middle finger - Futaba, it's easy to see, and as the navi she is often farther back. Also let's be real, it's the natural conclusion  
> Ring finger - Akechi, he was last to join and it was the only option left for similar reasons as Haru  
> Pinkie - Yusuke, he is the tallest and the irony seemed, again, funny
> 
> Thumbs are used for other signals and left out to avoid confusion
> 
> Akira, practicing different combinations: Damn I'll be so good at throwing gang signs. Or I could become an ASL-rapper.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit shorter but alas. 
> 
> Because fictional underage drinking is apparently where we draw the line on this site, even though fictional murder is no issue (sarcasm guys I know why we do that), I feel obliged to say that although this is set in Tokyo, I forgot about that fact and realized only later that drinking under 18 is technichally not allowed there. In my country legal drinking age is 16 for wine and beer, so I went with that. Outside of chemistry, alcohol is not a solution folks!

_The room was dark and quiet, too quiet. Even sounds like his own breathing, the rustling of fabric or his own footsteps as he approached the table in the middle were just – not existent. It felt like he was deaf._

_Akira was looking at him. He kept staring, unblinking, at the barrel of the gun trained on his face. He looked sad, so sad that it broke his heart._

_Akechi wanted to speak, to ask what had possessed him to go along with this stupid plan, to throw himself to the wolves so willingly, how he could trust so much, to trust Akechi not to kill him, but he couldn’t. Instead, he watched his own finger squeeze the trigger, a move that seemed to stretch time like toffee, until eventually it snapped and the shot rang through the entire building._

_Akiras head hit the table with a splatter of blood, grey eyes wide, wide, and oh so empty._

_Akechi desperately wanted to leave, he didn’t want to have to see this, he didn’t want to be the one who had done this, but he knew without looking that the red light on the camera in the corner was blinking, recording, and the whole world was looking at him, they knew what he had done, and he couldn’t go anywhere, he had to stay, handcuffs chaining him to the table like a metal leash._

_The walls around them disappeared, and they were on a brightly lit stage, surrounded on all sides by faceless masses, their conversations mixing and overlapping, until it sounded like the roaring of a storm, and they were staring, staring, staring, staring at his shortcomings, his failure._

_He averted his gaze, looking down, and there were small drops of blood travelling up his hands, his arms, disappearing underneath his clothes and crawling up further on his skin, it was his own blood, tingling and burning as the droplets went up to his shoulders, wrapping around his neck, suffocating, and inching across his face, despite his best efforts to shake them off, he needed to get it off…_

_He was looking at Kurusu, no, that was Joker, with the mask firmly in place, but the eyes were the wrong colour, they were bright yellow and shifting in their sockets at an impossible angle to stare straight up at him, and he spoke without moving his mouth “Did you really think we would forgive you?”, and suddenly, without moving, Akechi was facing the other direction, and Shido was standing in the door of the interrogation room, staring at Akechi. “You should have never existed at all.” Akechi lifted the gun in his hands against his own will, and the barrel came to rest against his own temple, and he watched himself in third person, from the outside, as his finger squeezed the trigger again, saw Shido grinning in satisfaction…_

_He needed to run, he was going to die, he didn’t want to die, get out, get out, get out, and the faceless people grasped at him, hundreds of hands holding tugging and shoving and yet keeping him firmly in place, the only movement was his trigger finger, and it hurt, it hurt so much…_

Goro awoke with a gasp and a silent cry, fighting against whatever was grappling him, trying to get away. He frantically kicked his legs in an effort to struggle free, sitting up and swatting his hands at his assailant. It took him a few moments to realize where he was, in a foreign bed, in a foreign room. Takamakis place. His legs where merely tangled in the sheets, he was alive, he was breathing, and he was safe, for now. His breath came in rapid gasps, and his whole body was shivering, even though he wasn’t cold. Yet. As his senses slowly came back to reality, he noticed that he was soaked in cold sweat, the fresh air numbing his skin. 

He carded a hand through the hair sticking to his face, trying to calm down. The adrenaline was slowly fading, but whenever he closed his eyes, it conjured the image of the interrogation room. He grimaced at himself. This was getting ridiculous! He just wanted to get one full night of rest, was that too much to ask? 

The bruise on his shoulder was aching slightly after his careless flailing about, and he rubbed at it absentmindedly. He still couldn’t believe Shido had actually dared to throw something at him like that. Intimidation and threats, that was nothing new, but assault?

That hadn’t happened before. Was the upcoming election getting to him? He had become increasingly paranoid, the Phantom Thieves playing no small part in that. Or was something else going on? Was he suspecting something? His thoughts kept spiralling in disconnected patterns, and he allowed it, anything to distract him from that nightmare. Eventually, when he knew he wasn’t going to get any sleep right now, he got up, soft footfalls making their way into the kitchen. 

He didn’t flick any switches. The lights of the city, casting a perpetual glow through the windows, were enough to navigate through the apartment, and he already knew what he was searching for. 

He had spotted his prize earlier in the evening, when he had helped with the dishes, and he didn’t think twice about pulling the wine from the cabinet. Locating a corkscrew was the bigger challenge, but he got lucky after searching three drawers, and took a triumphant swig straight from the bottle.

He slid down with his back against the kitchen island to sit on the floor, hidden from view unless somebody stepped purposefully into the space between the island and the counters. 

He didn’t have a high tolerance by any means, so he didn’t have to wait for long until the buzz set in, numbing the cold seeping from the floorboards and pleasantly fuzzing his thoughts. He restrained himself after a quarter of the bottle was gone, it would do him no good to get blackout drunk in his current situation, but fuck said situation.

This day had been a lot. Between (reluctantly and unreasonably) aiding the Thieves in the Palace and waking up in Akiras bed, he remembered absolutely nothing. They had neither killed nor abandoned him, which was a lucky turn of events. He had even been welcomed as a valuable ally, trading information for the right to witness Shidos downfall. 

It was everything else that bothered him. He knew that (most of them) weren’t stupid. He knew that they _must_ have figured out the parts that he played in the mental shutdowns. And that he had been against them from the start, when they met for the first time. 

Actually, he was curious as to how they had figured him out in the first place. And when. Was it during their talk at the school festival? It must have been around then at the latest. But they couldn’t have had proof, he had been careful. It may have been before, when he had let his guard down around Kurusu, maybe he had said _something_ that had given him away. 

Either way, they had known that he was out to end them. They knew he had shot Okumuras Shadow. Even if they didn’t care about the other shutdowns he had caused, that one had been personal. Like the part he had played in Kurusus arrest. And his ‘suicide’. He had followed them into the Palace to kill them!

So why on earth had _no one_ addressed these topics in any way? It had been a surprise when Kurusu hadn’t immediately started an interrogation in the morning, but he had expected their meeting to make up for that. And yet, their biggest issue had been the fact that Shido _apparently_ , no proof here either, had ordered his assassination for some time in the future. It wasn’t even their most pressing concern.

He couldn’t figure out for the life of him what they wanted. People always wanted something. When they had promised to stop pretending around each other, he had hoped that at least they wouldn’t have to play nice anymore. But apparently, they insisted on being _friends_. At least Takamaki and Kurusu, and the rest was not objecting. Not even when they had to go out of their way to find the Cleaner in Mementos. 

It just made no sense whatsoever. He let his head fall against the counter behind him with a thud, searching the ceiling for answers. He wondered how long they would put up with him before they would change their minds. They always did. 

He couldn’t tell how long he had sat there. He didn’t bother looking at the source of the footsteps, and he didn’t acknowledge it either when Takamaki slid down to sit on the floor next to him. She didn’t say anything, but he eventually passed her the bottle and she took a polite sip. 

“Can’t sleep?” she asked after a long while. 

Goro made a noncommittal noise that could be interpreted as _obviously_. 

“Me either.”

“I gathered.” He hoped they were done talking now. 

They passed the bottle back and forth a few more times before she spoke up again. “I’m not going to apologize for what I said earlier, I meant it all, but I’m sorry I did it in front of all the others. That wasn’t very considerate of me.”

Goro agreed, but he didn’t tell her that. Nothing to be done about it now, anyway. He just wanted to forget that ever happened. 

But apparently Takamaki had other plans. “Can I ask you something?”

Goro sighed, deeply annoyed, putting one hand on his face and dragging it down until he could look at her. “What?” he hissed. 

His unfriendly tone didn’t deter her. “Why didn’t you just take my offer in the first place?”

Normally, he would have deflected that question by glancing over it and then quickly changing the topic. But he was tired, he was cold, he was annoyed, he was tipsy, and most importantly, he didn’t care what she thought about him being brutally honest. And he was genuinely curious. 

“I’m done being dependant on others. So far, there has always been a catch. People don’t give things for free. It’s just not natural. So, tell me, what is it that you want from me?” 

“What I want from you, huh…” She pondered the question for a while. “Aside from what I already told you, I guess I’m hoping that you won’t hurt my best friend. At least not on purpose. He really cares about you.”

“He likes the person he thinks I am. He doesn’t even really know me that well.” It was the unfortunate truth, even if they refused to acknowledge it. 

“Then show him. I can tell that you’re not indifferent about him either, and don’t even try to argue with me about that, so just go for it.”

“Ha! Sure. Give it a few days, and I’m afraid he’ll be very disappointed in me.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic. I know you weren’t entirely honest with us back then, but I also know that it wasn’t entirely a lie, either.”

Goro barked a laugh. “We learned pretty quick how to fake it for the game.”

“And now you need to learn how to drop the act”, she said wistfully. This girl should become a philosopher.

“He won’t like it.” It was a matter-of-fact statement. 

“That’s not for you to decide. You can decide that a person is not _your_ friend, perfectly fine, that’s your right. But you can’t convince them you’re not theirs. If that makes sense.” He could see out of his periphery that she was now looking at him, and how she slowly extended one hand until her fingertips came to rest lightly against his arm in a gesture that was probably supposed to be reassuring. 

“And for the record, I already decided that you _are_ my friend, and I don’t care what you think about that. I’ll let you know if I ever change my mind about it, so don’t worry about staying here for as long as you like, okay?” 

In hindsight, it was probably a good idea that Goro hadn’t gone home after the Palace, voluntarily or not. Between Shidos admission (slip-up?) of already knowing that he wasn’t in his apartment, when Goro had never before even suspected surveillance, (because where would he go?), and the list he had gotten earlier, something was definitely off. Shido had named four of the people that held the letters in the Palace, and the Cleaner was possibly only left out because Shido might not now his real name. 

And that the paperweight had been aimed at the same shoulder where the Shadow had injured him… coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not. But it was safe to say that their actions in the Palace were already starting to affect Shido. To start assassinating his objectively valuable allies this close to the election… If he went through with it, he would only scare his remaining supporters off. 

It was lucky that he had the liberty to skip classes on account of his jobs, and with Shido thinking he was on an extended Metaverse trip, he should be fine disappearing for a few days. With four simultaneous targets, he had a good excuse. Unlike the Phantom Thieves, he didn’t have the luxury of a questionable and slightly disturbing cat vehicle to help him travel down into the depths. Spending entire days down there was uncommon, thankfully, but it was also nothing he hadn’t done before. Especially after the place had started expanding over the year. 

And having to take the Reaper into account should he move too slow, it had always been sprints between rest areas for him, recharging his stamina and tending to wounds whenever he got the chance, taking his time to make sure he was rested enough to make it. Without healing spells, a small leg injury was all it took to force him to sit a few hours in those uncomfortable plastic seats, waiting it out until he was certain he could run if he had to, or needing his SP to recover naturally. 

First people to question his whereabouts would probably be his fans after a few days of absence on his social media. He wondered if maybe he would never have to care about that ever again. His public appearences had been a ploy orchestrated by Shido to help boost his popularity, and there was simply no need to continue the farce. He was glad about it. It had become quite troublesome.

He doubted they would care for long. After the news had faded, he probably would be forgotten by the public, replaced by the new topic of interest. As long as they were entertained, the masses didn't care. Unlike other people. 

“Why are you so insistent on ‘helping’ me?”

“Because I can’t help but remember the time when I was in a similar situation. Kamoshida was a bastard, and yet no one could stand up to him. It wasn’t possible. I knew I was being wronged, that the whole situation at the school was not right, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I couldn’t even ask for help. Or at least that was what I believed. I had resigned myself to it. To the fact that this was reality. And then, Akira just showed up out of nowhere, together with Ryuji and Morgana, and suddenly there was not one, but three people offering me their support.”

“To me, who would have sacrificed anything just to get out of there, and they didn’t even ask anything in return. It was a whole new world. I had hope for the first time in over a year. I’ll never forget how I felt when they allowed me to actually stay and fight with them. They were the first who didn’t look away, the first who accepted me despite the rumours about me floating around at the time. It was incredible. And I promised to myself, that if I ever saw someone else in a similar situation, that I wouldn’t look away, either. I want to be the person who reaches out and offers to help, because sometimes, just like me, they might not know how to ask for it.”

 _I want you to stop pretending._

“I think I may have underestimated you. Fine. I’ll take it. Don’t come complaining when you regret it though.”

Her speech left him feeling oddly called out, not that he would ever admit that. Reluctant acceptance was all he was willing to concede to. She didn't seem bothered by it.

“You just try and make me. I can be stubborn as well, you know”, she retorted, good-naturedly. “Say, now that we talked about me: What do _you_ want?”

“I want to see Shido go down.”

Even in the dim light, he could see her roll her eyes. “Do I have good news for you, then. But what about after that?”

Akechi shrugged. “Depends on the outcome of Shidos change of heart.” _Not Mental Shutdown_. Huh, when had he decided that? But maybe it _would_ be more satisfying, to know that detested man would get to rot in jail for the rest of his life, forgotten by everybody until the day he died. 

“Well, if you don’t have plans already, the lot of us are planning to celebrate New Year’s together, you wanna come?” The casual question, changing the tone of their conversation so abruptly, threw him a bit, and so he stammered out without thinking “I- I’ll see what I can do?” He didn’t really plan to say that, it just seemed to be the polite, the expected way to answer, and for a moment is TV mask took over.

“Great!” Ann shot him a beaming smile. “Anyway, I’m going back to sleep. Some of us have to get up early and be good students or whatever.” She effectively ended their conversation by getting up and reflexively dusting herself off, despite the floor being spotless. 

Goro was about to do the same when a hand was offered to him, and without thinking much about it, he took it, hauling himself up with her support. Without further commenting on it, she took the wine bottle, now two thirds empty, and emptied the rest into the sink. “I just hope this wasn’t one of the expensive ones”, she murmured, although she didn’t seem too concerned. They exchanged a quiet “Goodnight” before sneaking back into their respective rooms.

Goro shook his head at himself before he laid back down. The Phantom Thieves sure were unique characters. If this was going to be a new game, he might as well enjoy it. See how far he could take things before they lost their patience with him. How far he could rile them up. It was stupid and served no other purpose than his own entertainment whilst awaiting the fallout of their current mission, but really, it wasn’t like he had anything left to lose at this point. 

_”What do you want?”_

No matter how spontaneous and poorly planned the decision in the Palace had been in the moment, there was no denying the fact that it _had_ been his decision. It had been _his_ decision. Maybe the fact that he hadn’t planned it meant even more than he cared to admit to himself. 

If he could have this, even for a short while, what he wanted was to make it count.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theo: So, how is it that this one can have two personas despite not being a wildcard? It makes little sense to me.
> 
> Margaret, looking at Theos & Lizzies team that contains a literal child, a dog, and a robot: Is that really where you draw the line?
> 
> Meanwhile, Lavenza has a full conspiracy theory with a PowerPoint, going on about how Loki had been the most powerful Persona of the Fool Arcana during P4, and how that rank maxed out on the very same day their Justice Social Link ‘died’, and how the Fool is associated with the Wildcard, and that also Robin Hood is definitely Justice, so technically more the “true Persona”, meaning Loki is the unnatural one...
> 
> Elizabeth, interrupting after 40 minutes: Maybe we should just ask our master about it?
> 
> Lavenza, knocking on the Velvet Door with a -.- expression: Yea that'll be difficult rn.
> 
> Theo: Why?
> 
> From inside the door: The number you are trying to call is unavailable at the moment. Please try again later or after all impostors have been removed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you undoubtedly already noticed, updates are going to be a little bit slower from here on out. It's exam season at my uni (yaaay!) and I will try to keep it weekly, but no guarantees. I also don't write the chapters in order, so the schedule may be a little irregular, but on the bright side, I already wrote the Epilogue, so this thing will be finished 100%! Unless chemistry kills me. In that case, y'all are invited to come to my funeral and have a battle royale for the drafts. Second place gets my potted fern.

Come next morning, Akira made the most of finally sleeping in a proper bed by lazing about until nine thirty, drifting in and out of sleep. 

Eventually though, the growing list of things he had to sort out for the infiltration (and his growling stomach) had him shuffling closer and closer to the edge of the bed, until he had to swing his feet out to keep himself from falling off yet again. 

He took his time throwing on some clothes, and then made the bed, and did generally anything he could to put off actually leaving the room. 

He had done some good old overthinking, and he wondered just what exactly Ann, Haru, and even he had been thinking, to come to the conclusion that sticking him and Akechi into the same room alone for a whole day, let alone the foreseeable future, was a good idea. 

Not that he was scared of Akechi. There was just no way that they could actually fight or harm each other. He was not even entertaining the possibility that Akechi might try to kill him again. They were past that, and it would gain him nothing, and besides, he knew Akechi simply didn’t want to do that. Or else he would have left them in the Palace. 

No, his problem was more common. Akira didn’t know how he was supposed to act. Akechi made him a socially awkward mess. Akechi _was_ a socially awkward mess, when he wasn’t deliberately trying to hide behind polite small talk and heavy psychoanalysis of his conversational partners. 

Maybe he would hide behind that again, but Akira hoped he wouldn’t. They had promised to stop pretending. They just hadn’t interacted on that level before. Or rather, the last time hadn’t gone well for either of them, ending with a fight in Mementos. 

They both had taken a heavy beating, Akechi had suffered a blow to his pride by losing, and Akira had experienced the awful pain of rejection when Akechi had told him bluntly that he hated him. So not the best basis for shared self-imposed house arrest. 

Leblanc had been easier, in the way it had been neutral ground, because despite Akira living in the attic, it was also a café, a public space, where society dictated some basic norms and rules of behaviour, a framework of normalcy they could cling onto. 

This was an entirely different situation. Because there was a door that kept them in and everyone else out. Total privacy. In case they wanted to stab each other. 

Akira knew how easy it was for the both of them to rile each other up, rising to any spoken and unspoken challenges, butting heads for nothing more than the hell of it. 

He found himself doing just that as he finally stepped out of hiding, sneaking into the kitchen, trying to look unbothered. _No more pretending. No more games._ So, if that was how it was going to be… Akira wouldn’t have to change much. 

He could continue with the banter and the discussions and the… yes, also the flirting. It didn’t have to mean anything. It was just teasing. Nothing serious. It would be stranger to stop just because he had gotten an additional piece of the puzzle. Right?

If he had convicted himself to being honest, he wouldn’t have to change much at all. The biggest difference would be merciless teasing about the whole assassination thing, The Plan and the Pancake Plot, as Akira had dubbed their game, after the slip-up at their first meeting. Not that Akechi could ever know. Ann was right. That _was_ too funny. 

Maybe it was insensitive to joke about these things so soon, but Akira found dark humour to be an excellent coping mechanism. If he joked about it enough, it would become just that eventually. It was better than the alternative. 

Akechi wasn’t in the kitchen, and it took Akira a couple minutes of puttering around for breakfast until he spotted him across the room on the couch. He had a laptop propped up on his knees that, judging by the stickers coating the back, belonged to Ann, and he was busy reading something. 

The sight startled him, because how long had he been there, not saying a word? He stared for a brief moment, and Akechi apparently sensed the looks or the interruption in the steady noise Akira had been making, because he looked straight back with a mildly curious expression. 

It lasted for only a moment, a short look of calm recognition, before he dropped his gaze back onto whatever the screen was displaying. It was not at all what Akira had expected, and after an internal struggle, he continued with his breakfast, silent as well. 

It was an okay silence. There was nothing malicious or hostile or cold about it. They both stayed firmly their spaces, alongside each other, but not overlapping yet. Content to not speak, busy with their respective tasks. Feeling out the change. 

Because Akechi had changed. It was almost like a different person sitting there. If Akira had been shown a picture of the person on the couch, his first guess would have been that Akechi had (another) sibling, because it was hard to overlap the guy chilling on the couch, the messy ponytail and the freckles and the soft, comfy clothes that were a little too wide, chewing on his lower lip as he frowned at whatever he was reading, with the calm, stoic, plastic, _fake_ person that had been on the Television screen far too often in recent weeks. 

Akira kept stealing glances as he finished his breakfast. They still hadn’t interacted besides that small acknowledgement earlier. It was not yet uncomfortable, but the silence would become harder and harder to break the longer it went on. So Akira decided to make an offering in the form of coffee. 

He did what he could, but after living with a human coffee encyclopaedia for nine months, whatever sorry excuse for a coffee machine Ann had in her kitchen felt like a personal offense to Akira. 

Still, he brought the two cups over to the coffee table, placed one (casually) in reach of Akechi, and then sat himself down in an armchair. 

Akechis eyes flickered from the screen to the cup as the porcelain clinked on the glass surface, and from there briefly to Akira, before going back to the laptop. He didn’t react any further. Akira started to wriggle into the cushions to get ready for another long session of tactical planning, overthinking and sending bad internet jokes to torment his friends during their classes.

Once he was sufficiently engrossed in his phone, he watched out of the corner of his eye as the coffee vanished from the table. 

Akira couldn’t help the amused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and he heard a small, disgruntled huff from across the table in response. His smile, hidden behind his own cup now, only broadened, the tiny acknowledgement enough to warm him from the inside like a gentle ray of sunshine. 

They co-existed in a similar fashion for the remainder of the morning and the early afternoon, orbiting around each other and yet not really coming into contact. They were like two stray alley cats that had unexpectedly come face to face after rounding a corner. Staring at each other, inching closer, warily, as they decided whether the other wanted to fight, to play, or to simply move past undisturbed. 

Each small inch towards the other was testing the waters. First, it was just the gradual fading of tension out of their postures, glances out of their periphery, then gradual bravery to move about more freely, a stretch, bouncing a leg, an annoyed groan when their devices took ages to load a page, a refill for their coffees, spreading notes on the table in-between, until they were truly sharing the space.

Now they just had to eventually start talking. It was hard to find a topic. Small talk was too forced, and anything too intense could destroy their truce like a hurricane ripping a cardboard house asunder. There was a fine middle line to be tread here, and Akira tried to find a point where he could access it. 

During this time, Akira replayed the video Yusuke had sent again and again. With the sweeping camera angles and the sunlight reflecting off the cards laid out, it was hard to make them all out at once, although it looked pretty, like a miniature drama, narrated by Chiyaha. 

And what a drama it was. Before Akira had let himself be arrested, death had been looming over him like a Damocles sword, and when he had made it out unscathed and the dreaded omen had drawn back, it had been a weight off his shoulders. 

Unfortunately, it seemed to be back with renewed vigour, and according to Chihaya, this time it targeted one or more of his loved ones, when they would try to do what was right. 

It was basically just a confirmation of what he already knew, this Palace was dangerous, Shido was after them, the works. He knew he could take fate in his own hands, that her readings didn’t necessarily need to come true, but to hear it from someone unrelated to the Metaverse did nothing to calm his nerves. 

The cards themselves didn’t fill him with confidence, either. It was again the Fool and Justice, Death, of course, the Lovers and the Judgement. Chihayas reading aside, it meant that he would have to keep an eye on himself, Ann, and Akechi during their trip tomorrow. 

As he was thinking about who to put on the team the next day, he heard Akechis new phone vibrate multiple times in quick succession, and from the rhythm the notifications played out he could instinctively tell that it was Futaba. 

Unless Akechi had other friends that typed in staccato sentences because they could not be bothered to write a neat paragraph because they “don’t like how those big walls of text look in your inbox. Besides, it’s easier to get attention that way. More notifications equals more urgent.”

It seemed to do the trick; the first chime got no visible reaction, but the fifth one had Akechi closing the laptop and leaning off the couch to grab the offending device from the couch table with an annoyed sigh. 

If this were any other team member, curiosity would have Akira already sidling up to them to read over their shoulder as to what the hell was so important. With Futaba, it could either be an announcement for a new game or that her house had caught fire. Either option was valid. 

Or would be, if she weren’t texting Akechi of all people. And Akira knew it was a direct message, the only other possibility for continuous messages like that was the group chat, which Akira quickly checked and yep, silent. 

He didn’t try to hide his curious stares as he watched for a reaction on Akechis face. What he hadn’t expected was the confusion as the other read the messages once, twice, lines on his forehead deepening as he frowned at whatever he was seeing. Eventually, Akechi looked over to him, frustrated, muttering “What does that even _mean_?” as he gestured with the phone for Akira to come take a look. 

**Alibaba**

_Tuesday, Dec 6th_

**Alibaba:** hey i’ll need ur updated stats so i know what i’ll be navigating tomorrow  
**Alibaba:** Like i guess ur still DPS main but can u do support or tank  
**Alibaba:** what r ur affinities?  
**Alibaba:** i saw u do some AoE status how does that work  
**Alibaba:** how many builds do u have is it just the 2  
**Alibaba:** or can u do wildcard shit  
**Alibaba:** so a full character sheet would be nice  
**Alibaba:** this is futaba fyi

Akira hummed as he skimmed the texts. These were all great questions, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious as well. He had only caught a glimpse of the other Persona, with the battle demanding his attention, but it was definitely something else. 

It hadn’t looked like a second tier either, those at least resembled their predecessors. And it wouldn’t explain the change in clothing anyway. 

Akechi sat next to him, holding the phone at an angle so Akira could read and tapping his foot in an increasing pace as he waited for an answer. Not that Akira could see a problem with the questions themselves, it was oddly legible, coming from Futaba. This was probably about her unexpected showing up.

“Sorry about that”, he explained. “She hacked into my phone as well before we first met. Just tell her what she wants to know and she’ll disappear again.”

“And what exactly does she want to know?” It came out only a little aggressive, and Akira couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“You really are not so hot on the video games, are you?” Akechi confirmed this with a pointed glare. 

“She’s basically asking about an update on your abilities in the Metaverse so she knows what she’s working with tomorrow.” Akira briefly considered if it would be wise to push the subject, but Futaba had already put the foot in the metaphorical door, and Akira would be stupid if he let the opportunity slide. 

“I’m really curious about that as well, if you don’t mind…?”

“It’s nothing much, really. Its name is Loki, and contrary to you, I don’t have any more than those two. It does mostly curse and almighty damage, and also has powerful physical attacks, although those are rather taxing. It’s immune to curse and susceptible to bless damage, but it evades the latter more often than not. Oh, and it knows Debilitate.” 

Akechi rattled the facts down almost too fast for Akira to follow, making it quite clear that it was not his favourite topic to talk about. 

Akira didn’t dare to push any further, and instead tried a trick that he had learned from Akechi himself. Staying quiet, but keeping an expectant look on his face, he nodded and settled a little more comfortably in his new spot, signalling that he was still listening. 

Akechi had explained that most people were uncomfortable with unexpected silence in an ongoing conversation that was not clearly ended, and would thus continue on after a while. 

Strangely enough, it worked, and after a few moments Akechi explained further, “The status effect is one of its innate abilities. It causes targets to go on a rampage, but simultaneously boosts attack on the cost of defense. They’ll then act recklessly and sometimes unpredictable, but often hostile to anything nearby. It’s… something I try to avoid using, unless there’s a - how do I put it - ‘special occasion’…” He trailed off there, an oddly solemn look on his face. There was clearly more to this, but Akira didn’t want to go there if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. 

So instead he nodded, and as casually as he could, tried to change the topic to something lighter. “Sounds like an amazing Persona. Not that I expected anything less… I mean, you nearly took out an entire squadron of Shadows on your own in less than a minute. Do you mind being on the frontlines with Morgana, Ryuji and me tomorrow?”

As expected, Akechi straightened up a bit at the unexpected compliment, even though he tried to hide how pleased he was, lips quirking in a challenging smirk. “I was hoping to be there, after all, I’m selling you good information for that privilege.”

“Go capitalism, in that case”, Akira retorted. He gestured at the laptop, screen halfway closed to prevent him from looking, “Is that what you’re doing there?”

“It is”, Akechi nodded, “Your cat may have uncovered some incriminating evidence, but illegally procured, it’s worthless in court. I kept a list of Shidos illegal activities, and together with the check books from yesterday, we should be able to find the receivers of all those bribes and such. If they are smart, they kept similar records, if only to have something against Shido. A few search warrants might give us proper evidence, even if Shido destroys them on his end. There were also a lot of… questionable procedures back when he was involved with the research on cognitive psience. It’s been some time and people will of course focus on the political drama, but the statute of limitations hasn’t run out, and ordering ethically dubious research has a way of riling people up, wouldn’t you agree?”

Akira nodded again, struggling to keep his expression light. There was a gnawing curiosity in the back of his mind, wondering just what exactly had gone down in that research facility to warrant this much attention for an upcoming court trial. Yet, seeing Akechi slip back into a plastic smile as he talked about this with fake disinterest, he simultaneously didn’t want to know _at all_. “Seems about right. Don’t let me disturb you, then.”

He shuffled a little to the side and leaned back, putting his feet up on the coffee table, holding his phone at an angle against the incoming sunlight from the windows behind him, and resumed his own tasks. 

If Akechi was bothered by the fact that Akira had taken up residence right next to him, he didn’t show, shrugging at the sudden end of the conversation before going back to his reading. 

They spent the remainder of the afternoon in a similar fashion, both a little unsure of how to act or what to talk about. Coffee got refilled, snacks were shared, and although they both got up several times for one reason or another, they kept their seating arrangement on the couch, occasionally showing something to the other. 

Talks were short exchanges more often than not. Both of them were testing the waters, dropping the occasional off-hand comment that might or might not be just verbalized thoughts, inviting a response but not requiring one. 

When they had something to say to those comments, it was mostly polite, but with genuine curiosity underlying. Akira learned a lot more _normal_ stuff about Akechi, like the fact that he lied about mostly anything on his food blog, that he was sort of a morning person, that he had a much darker, cynical sense of humour than he had let on before, that he played an instrument (he refused to tell which one), and as much as he ignored video games, he seemed to be a real fan of anime. 

Akira in return shared some info about himself, like that he was more of a night owl, but Morgana kept his sleeping schedule somewhat in check, that he only played really old games because he found a cheap console once, that he loved cynical dark humour (circumstantial evidence as he nearly choked on coffee twice), and that he didn’t know instruments, but was a decent enough dancer (he refused to tell Akechi which style). 

He also noticed that, despite Akira sharing most of his stories in anecdotes that involved his friends, Akechi never mentioned any other person. It made him think, and surprisingly, aside from Sae-san, he couldn’t remember Akechi saying anything in that direction in the whole time they had known each other. 

He tried to ask about it in a roundabout way, if Akechi played with a band or an orchestra, or if he had anybody who went climbing with him, or even what the ongoing drama and gossip at his school is, if his classmates were equally useless when it came to the school festival and so on, but Akechi always glanced over these.

It wasn’t a confirmation of anything, but where he had before thought Akechi to be simply respectful of the privacy of his friends, Akira know wondered if he might actually be… lonely. 

With what he knew now about Shido, it made sense, that sort of life required secrecy and sparked paranoia, Akira could attest to that after starting the Phantom Thieves. He had gotten lucky that he had wandered in there with Ryuji and found Morgana. But despite that, Akira had his confidants outside his team, some people that he would not necessarily call close friends, but that were not mere acquaintances, either. Just someone to talk to. 

It would explain why the owner of the Jazz Jin had been so quick to take notice of Akira. And how Akechi seemed to be always available when he wasn’t working or at school. Fuck. How had Akira never noticed that? He had assumed that people would throw themselves at Akechi left, right and center, because hell, the guy was just amazing, couldn’t they see that? 

Smart, cunning, talented, great sense of humour, interesting hobbies, good-looking, attentive, ambitious, a real nerd in some areas, fashion sense at least 50% of the time, always ready for a challenge… How could there be someone who _didn’t_ love him? 

He should be able to pick his friends at his own leisure. Who wouldn’t be fascinated with him? How could anybody resist that guy? Did Akechi know how amazing he was? Did he really choose to isolate himself on purpose? Because there was no way someone would reject a friendship offer from him. At least nobody with more than three brain cells. 

For some reason, the mere possibility that he was right with his theory made Akira angry, at the world in general, and he renewed his promise to himself to be the best fucking friend Akechi could have ever imagined (not that it was a competition, because it definitely wasn’t). 

At this point in time, his battle plan was to simply be there and offer a helping hand and an open ear, to test the boundaries and expand upon those slowly but surely. He would make sure to pay special attention in the future, to confirm or deny his theory. 

But, and this circled back to their promise on the day before, no more pretending meant that he was free to shower that fucking idiot with as much affection as Akira could possibly give (which was a lot), and Akechi couldn’t complain because he had insisted on that himself, so there. 

After a while, Akira felt brave enough to actually incite a proper exchange. “How’s the shoulder?”

“Fine, mostly. Do you know if the healing magic in the Metaverse would work on injuries received in the real world?”

“Nah, it’s a great idea, I thought the same after the interrogation, but we tested it. Doesn’t work.”

“Shame.”

“Yea.”

The thing was, Akechi was easy to talk to. Really easy. It was nothing new, they had established that in the past. But after he dropped the act and stopped being polite in favour of saying what he actually wanted to say, conversation with him ascended to another plane. 

After they got started on detailed Metaverse mechanics, it was difficult to stop, and they discussed anything from the forming of Palaces to the workings of Mementos. There were certain off-limit areas, they shared nothing personal, staying on the dry theory of the matter, and asking was taboo. 

Akechi dropped some tidbits of additional information, although he never elaborated too much, and Akira understood that he was not supposed to pry. He found out that Loki was his first Persona, and Robin Hood only manifested at the beginning of the year, around the end of February, for unknown reasons. 

He also confessed that he had come to hate the media and his celebrity status, although it had been fun in the beginning, and that the whole thing was orchestrated by Shido, to gain support with the younger generations via eventual endorsement. 

He also hinted at the idea that he never really solved any actual cases himself, but Akira had to read between the lines to get that in the first place, and he decided to file it away for later. 

He berated Akira at least four times on the stupidity of their plan in Saes Palace, and Akira couldn’t decide whether he should be annoyed or amused about that. For someone who claimed to hate him, Akechi sure was invested in his continued survival. 

Sometimes they went off on a tangent on a wildly different topic before having to cut their conversation and circling back to what they had originally been talking about. 

Akechi wasn’t the only one sharing knowledge. Akira returned the favour by telling him about the general concept of the Arcanas and that they related to the Personas, that he had the ability to fuse them together (he didn’t disclose the Velvet Room, because way to sound crazy), and retold everything Morgana had taught him about the Metaverse. 

He also explained the plan in more detail (leading to lectures number one to three on various points during the story), but he adamantly refused to tell Akechi how they found him out. The only thing he let slip was that he knew shortly after they met for the first time, which prompted Akechi to grumble on about possible slip-ups, all of which Akira truthfully denied. 

In return, Akechi refused to tell Akira how he had known that they were the Phantom Thieves with the same explanation, and it turned into some variant of a Black stories game that they kept on going throughout the rest of the day, coming back to it whenever they had a new idea. That was how Ann found them when she returned home later that day, bickering and taking turns with guessing. 

“No. So was it something I said during an interview?”

“No. Was it when you saw us going into Okumuras Palace?”

“No. Was it my explanation about the psychology of Shadows and Personas?”

“No. Was it…” And so on. Akira could have gone on like that for hours, and even when he took the groceries from Ann and moved to the kitchen to prepare curry for them all, Akechi simply followed so they could continue on. Sometimes they would get side-tracked recalling a specific meeting they had, but eventually they would be back at it again. 

By dinnertime, Ann had chimed in with her own increasingly ridiculous theories, and when they disbanded in the late evening, the overall mood was simply great, despite the circumstances. 

The sentiment carried over to the next morning, and Akira was up extra early, a combination of a good night’s sleep and anticipation for their excursion that day forcing him out of bed in time to wave Ann goodbye as she left for school. 

The winter solstice was mere weeks away, so it was still dark outside and would be for a while. Outside the windows, the myriad of lights from the city illuminated a low hanging cloud cover in pale yellow and grey, giving the now silent apartment an otherworldly feeling. 

It looked like a perfect day to huddle up inside, and Akira decided that he might do just that for now. He was already beginning to feel antsy, and with over six hours until their meeting, he could both afford and use a little distraction. Preparations were complete, now all he had to do was survive the wait. Thankfully, today he felt not the bad kind of nervous, he was more excited than that. 

Getting to fight with Crow would surely be amazing. 

Mindful of the other probably still sleeping, he dug his earphones out before putting his favourite playlist on shuffle, and then tackled breakfast. Soon he was humming to the tune and bopping along as best as he could whilst busy with making coffee, having a general blast that should be illegal this early in the morning. 

Anns place was open plan, and when the track changed to one of his old choreos, he just had to abandon his chores and step out into the living room. Being cooped up in an attic for two weeks, he could not let the opportunity the large space provided slide. 

He went through the steps automatically, having them done hundreds of times before. He knew the routine in his sleep, so he could tell that his fun lastet precisely two minutes and forty-seven seconds before he caught a glimpse of something, or rather someone, in the reflection of the windows. 

Muscle memory carried him through the next steps and prevented him from freezing up in surprise. He had two options: Stop and be embarrassed, or turn it up a notch and impress. 

Naturally, he went for the latter.

Another minute and twenty-nine seconds later, he finished, breathing a little faster with the excitement and exertion. He took the earphones out and took his time pocketing his phone. Without the music, it was completely silent in the apartment.

Just as he was to turn around to check if he had maybe imagined things, Akechi spoke up. “I admit I’m no expert on the topic, but was that some _ballet_ I saw there?” 

Akira feigned a little surprise as he turned, crossing his arms and leaning sideways against the nearby countertop on one elbow. “And how long have you been standing there?”

Akechi was leaning against the doorframe in a similar fashion, hands in his pockets, quirking one eyebrow at him. Akira had still trouble pinpointing the smaller emotions on his face, those goddamn freckles threw him off every time he looked at them, but if he had to guess, he’d say that Akechi was in similarly good spirits, even though he looked a little tired. 

Akechi shrugged. “Not that long. Don’t evade the question.”

Akira rolled his eyes, but it was all playful banter. “Yea, you caught me, I did a little ballet when I was younger. Among other things. You happy now?”

“No need to get all worked up about it, it’s merely unexpected. Is there maybe a story behind that?” Akechi teased. 

Akira hummed and went back to his breakfast, putting out plates and cutlery. “I had a friend who was obsessed with it, and she forced me to learn whenever we hung out. I started touching up on it again recently with Haru. You should see _her_! It’s insane what she can do!” 

He set down two portions and went to pour some coffee for them. “Now, do I finally get to know what instrument you play? Or do I have to sneak after you until I find out myself?”

“Good luck with that”, Akechi said, deadpan, as he sat down across from Akira. 

“Tell me or I’ll take the coffee away.”

“See if I care”, Akechi retorted, but he immediately pulled his cup closer and held onto it. “But if you really insist… Trumpet.” The last part was barely intelligible as Akechi directed his full attention to his food. If Akira hadn’t known any better, he’d guess he was embarrassed. 

“Really? You know what, that kind of suits you. You’ll have to show me sometime! What songs can you play?” His enthusiasm was genuine, and unfortunately short lived as Akechi immediately shot him down.

“I certainly won’t. ’S nothing special. Anyway, when will we meet with the others today?” Spoilsport.

“Futaba and Morgana are coming over at around three, and we’ll drive to the nearest subway station through topside Mementos. Safer that way. I was planning on binging that new show Makoto recommended me, you want to join?”

Akechi contemplated for a second, but there was not really much else to do. “Why not? But if it’s garbage, I’ll put in a veto.”

The show was about the last survivors of humanity, who had to survive in a dystopian future and bring civilization back with the help of science. Most of the things _seemed_ accurate enough, but a lot of the explanations went straight over Akiras head. The humour, story and artstyle made more than up for that. Akechi was so engrossed that Akira risked injury whenever he dared to interrupt. 

They went through one and a half seasons like that, only to be devastated to find out that they had to wait until Thursdays (so technically tomorrow but in the long term a disaster) for the next updates. 

The remainder of their time was spent theorizing about the plot and the worldbuilding, and only Futabas slightly early arrival saved Akira from having to defend his stance on the matter for the sixteenth time. 

As they stepped into the foyer of the building to activate the Meta-Nav, Akira felt a little apprehensive. He was the only one in their small group of four who hadn’t seen topside Mementos yet. 

Futaba had checked it out earlier, on her way to pick them up with Mona, so Sojiro could finally have a normal day in his café. She didn’t say anything about it when she arrived, which made Akira a little unsure. If Futaba found something even remotely fascinating, she would force everyone in her vicinity to either be fascinated as well or end up ignored. And normally, she had a special enthusiasm for cognitive psience. 

So either it was totally boring, or Futaba had seen something that bothered her. 

The shift was the only thing notifying him that they had switched over. That and their outfits. The building hadn’t changed much at first glance, although there was a feeling of something off he couldn’t place. 

He felt like he was staring at one of these ‘Spot the difference’-pictures, and try as he might, the detail he was looking for eluded him. 

Oracle came up to walk beside him. “Weird vibes, huh?” she asked. “As far as Shadows go, I can’t get any readings in a half-mile radius, so we should be good. I barely saw any on our way here. But I don’t like this place.”

Joker confirmed with a nod. “Let’s get going, then.” He glanced over at Crow, and he seemed completely unbothered, almost bored. It calmed his nerves a little; Crow had been around this place a few times, and he would surely tell them if something was out of the ordinary. As long as he was relaxed, there was probably nothing to worry about.

As they stepped out into the street, Mona was already transformed and waiting for them, raring to go. He was the only “vehicle” in the street, and Akira noticed that there were no other moving cars, no sounds of traffic, and barely any people visible. 

Those he could see moved oddly sluggish, some simply standing in place like mannequins. Joker wasn’t too bothered, they were far away, and normal cognitions were mostly harmless in his experience, but underneath the mask Akira could feel his fight-or-flight instincts get ready to be needed. 

The sky was weirdly devoid of colour, and looking at it too long hurt his eyes. He couldn’t pinpoint the sun either. There was light, but it seemed sourceless, and the buildings were weirdly washed out and again distorted in a way he couldn’t place. Everything seemed to smooth and clean, like he had just shrunk stepped into a miniature model of the actual city, all plastic and artificial. 

_That’s it_ , he thought, _there are no details. Everything is just smoothed out around the edges._

He put an arm around Orcale and pulled her a little closer as he fell in step next to Crow. This was wrong. 

Normal Mementos was at least honest about its intentions. This felt more like an ambush, as if something was trying to lure them in, to sneak up behind their backs after lulling them into a false sense of security. 

Mona greeted them with a proud purr as they piled into the seats, and Akira took the wheel, distracting himself from looking too close into this reality that existed just slightly to the left of theirs, or something like that. 

The ride was mostly quiet. Oracle occasionally navigated them down a side street to avoid stray Shadows, and Crow seemed content to gaze out the window, idly tapping his clawed gauntlets against the studs of a leather strap around his leg in a rhythmic _clink-clink-clink_. 

That was when Joker spotted it. A cognition, off in a side street as they passed by. Its face was contorted into what seemed to be a smile at first glance, but something was so wrong about it that he could feel the fine hairs on his arms and neck stand on end. 

“What on earth-“ he muttered before he forced himself to focus on the road again. There was still no traffic, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have to pay attention. 

Crow glanced back at him. “Did you spot one?” he asked, turning back around to search his side of the street with more intent. 

“Uh-huh. What _are_ those?” Joker felt a belated shiver run down his spine and he rolled his shoulders to try and get rid of the itchy feeling of being _seen_. 

“Don’t know. They started showing up a few months ago. I try to avoid them. Something about those doesn’t sit right with me. Normally, the cognitions here are just a representation of how crowded an area is in the mind of the general public, they don’t represent actual people. Those however… They seem to stick around. I bet you could find them again tomorrow if you tried.”

“I saw a few on my way here as well”, Mona chimed in. “I can’t really explain it, but I get can’t shake the feeling that they don’t belong here.”

“They give off slightly different readings as well. It’s not enough to pick up on a cursory scan, but if I put them side by side with the normal cognitions, you can see it. Like a unique monster in a pack of normal mobs”, Oracle informed them. “I’ll try to keep an eye out nevertheless. Take a right here, Shadows ahead.”

Joker obliged, and even though he kept his eyes peeled, he didn’t spot any more of them. They exited Mementos at the subway station closest to the Diet Building. He experimentally tried to activate the app before, but just like Crow had told them, it didn’t work. 

He wondered what would happen if he used a Goho-M. Maybe he could experiment a little in the coming days. 

The rest of the team waited for them scattered around the station, and they made their way over in small groups. Thankfully, the streets were relatively empty, anticipating the coming rush hour, and nobody paid them any mind as they walked. 

On Makotos and Yusukes marks, they quickly huddled into a circle, and Akira gave one final glance around, receiving reaffirming nods from each of them as they signalled their ready. 

“Alright, let’s do this!” Akira activated the Meta-Nav again. Time to secure a route and kick some ass in Mementos!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theodore, musing: If the wildcards share a living space that none of them own, does that make them... what do the humans call it? Roommates?
> 
> Elizabeth, Margaret & Lavenza in unison, under their breaths: Oh my god they are roommates. 
> 
> \---------  
> Akira: So, why excatly did you decide on trumpet?
> 
> Goro: Well, at first I wanted to get back at my annoying neighbours, but then I found it was actually fun and I tried to learn one of my favourite songs, and then it escalated from there... Anyway, here's Mass Destruction.
> 
> \---------  
> Bonus points to anyone who can figure out what show they binged


	9. Chapter 9

Entering the Palace, Joker took the time to assemble everybody on the front deck. Their last visit here had ended very badly for them. Taking his time briefing them, he made sure that everybody was up to it. If his team felt uncomfortable or scared, things were bound to go wrong again. 

He knew that after falling, one was supposed to get up straight away and try again. Stopping after failure led to overthinking and doubt, which was the reason he had pressed to get them back into the Metaverse as soon as safely possible. 

He let them all acclimatise and chatter a little, busying himself by collecting the letters of recommendation and rearranging a few supplies. They were all more or less subtly checking over Crows new suit, hovering around and asking questions. 

“Why do you get two outfits?”

“Can you change them at will or is it, like, depending on the day or something?”

“How do you even get that mask off to summon your Persona? It looks like it’s fused with the helmet!”

“That’s so cool! Joker only has his one lame coat.”

“I admit, that is quite an opposing aesthetic.”

Akechi gave them short, evading answers, and when he seemed to become too uncomfortable, Joker saved him by clapping his hands once to get attention.

“Alright everyone, this should be a fairly quick and easy mission. Skull, Mona and Crow will take point with me, the rest will follow as usual. We’re here to secure a route and nothing more. We’ll try to avoid unnecessary fights to conserve our energy for Mementos later. Questions?”

They all shook their heads and signalled that they were ready, taking up their positions in two groups. 

“Good. Oracle, how’s it looking?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. We are good to go.”

“Actually-“ Just as Joker turned to lead them inside, Crow barred his way with an outstretched arm. It was hard to tell with the helmet, but he seemed conflicted about something. 

There was a brief pause. “Yes?” Joker asked, cocking his head questioningly as their new companion stayed quiet. 

Crow opened his mouth, eyes flickering between the others. Joker could feel them all staring behind him, the unexpected interruption coupled with the unfortunate history of their last alliance making them very alert. 

“Ah… It’s just that- These Shadows in here are not a big fan of me. So be prepared in case they try something funny. Wouldn’t want a repeat of last time, would we?” He drew his arm back and turned sharply on his heel, striding forward before anybody had a chance to question him on that. 

Skull scoffed his boot against the deck. “For real? As if they are any more friendly towards us. What a weirdo.”

Joker silently agreed, but he just waved a hand over his shoulder to spur them all on as he hurried to catch up. 

He discovered very quickly what Crow had actually meant. The first few steps they took through the entrance, everything was as usual. The cognitions of the guests chattered amongst themselves, sipping champagne and trying very hard to exude an aura of superiority and carelessness, ignoring the Thieves like they were about as important as the servers waiting in the shadows. 

When Joker turned to look over his shoulder to chat with Skull, his gaze caught some of the cognitions staring straight back at him. It gave him pause, and he aborted his attempt at conversation, giving their surroundings a cursory scan to see if something was going on. 

He did not break stride, and as he passed by some other groups, the background noise of the chatter around them suddenly quieted for a few seconds, before it picked up again. 

It sounded more hushed and agitated, and he felt a weird sense of Déja-vu. It was oddly similar to the reactions he had gotten during his first week at Shujin. Whenever he would pass by, the chatter would cease for a moment and then resume with whispered rumours and insults, part fear, part disgust. 

There was a new tension in the air, and Joker waved them into a new formation, with Mona and Skull keeping watch to the sides as he took point, Crow next to him.

The other was walking on as if nothing happened, but his gaze kept darting around the room, and when Joker put a hand on his shoulder to slow him down a little, he felt the tension there. Crow startled and immediately stepped out of his reach, snapping his head back to look at him, one hand already at his blade. He was definitely nervous. 

Joker nearly startled as well, taking the hand back, palm up in a placating gesture. Before he could ask, Crow snarled at him “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”, but he fell back one step behind Joker, in the middle of their loose V formation. 

He saw Mona out of his periphery, tail a little poofed, a clear sign that he was also getting a weird feeling. 

They climbed the first flight of stairs. There were more cognitions here, away from the entrance. The chatter amplified in volume as well, like an angry swarm of bees, and he caught some words and the occasional half sentence. 

_”…he doing here?”_

_“Should take better care-“  
“-not supposed to run around like-“  
“…think he is here for…”  
“…the audacity, after-“  
“-call someone?”  
“-not want that around-“  
“Traitor!”  
“…useless piece of…”  
“Should never have taken him in…”  
“-would have gotten rid of him ages ago…”  
“Working with the enemy-“  
“What a disgrace…”  
“…he even still alive for?”  
“filthy traitor…”  
“Get lost!”  
“Just kill him…”  
“…never wanted him-“  
“…no longer of use-“  
“…does he think he’s doing?”  
“…can’t do anything right…”  
“Just die.”  
“Traitor.”   
“Get out.”  
“Traitor!”  
“-never have existed.”  
_

Joker felt something squeeze painfully in his chest as he realized they were talking about Crow. It coiled right underneath his sternum and made his breath shallow and his body tense. The open hostility coming towards them in waves was nothing short of suffocating, and his first instinct was to retreat. 

But they couldn’t back down now, so close to their goal. He didn’t think the cognitions would attack, and Oracle had confirmed that the only Shadows around were the usual few guards. 

It was just a short walk to the chamber of representatives, and then they could leave. Nice and quick. 

He instinctively shifted a little closer and to the right, walking directly in front of Crow. 

The rest of the team surely must have picked up on it by now, but nobody spoke up about it. Their weapons were drawn and at the ready, the backup team trailing a little closer than before in case they had to step in. 

It felt like something was _supposed_ to happen, to throw a wrench into their plans, so when they arrived at their destination without incident, Joker almost believed it to be a trick. 

They quickly slotted the papers into the door, and it rumbled open to reveal… nothing much. 

There was an empty auditorium, the same kind that was often seen on TV whenever they showed politicians sitting around doing whatever. At the bottom of the stairs was a podium, and above the stand floated the hazy silhouette of the treasure, just out of reach. 

“There it is! The treasure! Just as I said”, Mona exclaimed, looking smug. Skull gave him a pat on the head that nearly knocked him over. “Yea you did!”

“Now all we have to do is send the calling card. Leave that to Inari and me, I have a _great_ idea!” Oracle cackled. Joker grinned in response. “I’m looking forward to it.” Whatever she was about to unleash, their enemies deserved it. 

“I think it’s safe to assume the route is secured. Let’s head back and get to work in Mementos”, Joker ordered, not wanting to stay around longer than necessary. He glanced across the room once more, but he couldn’t see anything resembling a trap or extra security like Madarame or Kaneshiro or Sae had in their Palaces. 

Either Shido was overly confident in his associates to keep the letters secure, or he was so sure of himself that he didn’t even consider the possibility of someone coming after him. 

Having the treasure out in the open like this seemed almost careless, not that the Thieves were complaining. 

Just like that, they were on their way back up the stairs, headed for the exit. They had mingled together to look at the treasure, and Joker coaxed them back into formation as they left. The backup crew was a little too close for his liking, and he tried to fix their spacing as they went. 

Crow was straying behind, looking around the room and at the treasure. He was visibly uncomfortable in here, but there was also an air of grim satisfaction around him. Joker tried to give him his signal, before he remembered that they had yet to instruct their newest member on their sign language. “Crow! Come on! Get in position.”

They were just exiting the chamber and starting to file down the hallway when Crow called out from way behind them. “And where do you think you’re going?” 

The unmistakably hostile tone had Joker stop dead in his tracks, and he turned around, ready to exert some authority and tell him to get his act together if he wanted to come for the treasure next time. 

What he saw instead was Crow _right next to him_ , mortified, staring at Akechi, who had appeared out of nowhere in the hallway behind them. 

The whole group had come to a halt, their eyes darting in-between Crow and whatever was standing in front of them, all turning to Joker for guidance. He heard a quietly mumbled “What the eff” from Skull to his right and a distressed cat-noise from somewhere around his feet.

The copy looked downright unsettling, it’s eyes were just empty voids and its facial features were contorted into something clearly malicious as it regarded the group calmly, eyes lingering on each of them for a moment before it zeroed in on Crow. 

“Well isn’t this a surprise”, it drawled. “Turns out the elusive Phantom Thieves are right here, and they have a traitor in their midst. How convenient.”

Joker instinctively took a step forward to be ready for a fight. He was stopped by a pistol, raised in one swift movement, pointed straight at his face. Skull and Mona, who had started to follow him to the frontline, froze in their places. 

“Now, please, don’t start a fight you can’t win”, it tutted. 

Morgana growled. “It’s nine against one. I think the outcome of this battle is very clear!”

The cognition cocked its head to the side. “Ah, but you see, I am perfectly willing to die here if it helps our captain to achieve his goal. That is my mission, after all. You, however… are you really willing to sacrifice even one of your own? I’m sure I can take at least one of you down with me… The question is: Which one?”

With a sudden jerk of its wrist, the gun was now levelled at someone on his left, and Joker quickly dared to avert his gaze to find out that the new target was indeed Crow, just as he had feared. 

He could feel his own heart battering against his ribcage as he tried to find a way to break this stalemate without someone getting shot. 

“But… If you hand that one over, I might let the rest of you go, for now. What do you say? I am basically doing you a favour!”

Joker was again overwhelmed by affection for every single one of his friends as they immediately shuffled closer, hands darting to weapons and forming a protective circle around Crow. 

“Yea, as if!” Skull shouted back. 

“How cute. Are you volunteering yourself? It might just delay this guy’s death a little, you know?”

“We would never leave one of our own behind like that. If you challenge one of us, you challenge all of us!” Fox bristled. 

The cognition seemed unfazed, regarding them with a curious look and a mad grin spreading across its face. “Oh, I didn’t know the Phantom Thieves were investing into the business of Mental Shutdowns and Psychotic breakdowns.”

“Psychotic breakdowns…?” Noir whispered. Joker couldn’t blame her. They had known about the Shutdowns, but to hear that Crow was responsible for the other incidents as well… He could distinctly remember the train crashing into the station earlier this year, leaving many people injured. 

Unfortunately, this also made sense, and he wondered if those were related to that odd status effect. Crow had hinted at something in their conversation the day before…

“Ohhh, you didn’t tell them! And here I thought you finally grasped the true potential of the cognitive world. I’m wondering what else they don’t know…”

Joker could feel eyes on his back and attention shifting to Crow for a moment. They weren’t rising to the bait, they were better than that, but he couldn’t deny that the ominous statement prompted some uncomfortable questions. 

“Do they know you are tasked to kill them? Do they know how many you killed already?” With each sentence, it took a small step closer. 

“Do they know how troublesome you are, that even your own mother chose death over you? Do they know that your mere existence was an accident? A mistake? Do they-“

_Crack._

“Stop right there!” Panther ordered, her words accentuated by her whip licking at the floor between them. “One step closer and I won’t miss.” 

Crow, who seemed to have finally regained his composure, straightened up and shoved Joker aside, taking one step forwards. “I wondered what defences Shido had thought up, in the case I turned seriously violent in this place… Is that the best he can come up with? A puppet version of myself? Don’t mock me.”

“That’s right, I’m a puppet. I’ll do anything our captain orders. But if that is the case, the real puppet is you, isn’t it? And one that has outlived its usefulness.”

Suddenly, the arm aiming the pistol at them dropped to its side, and its smile turned even more disturbing, a caricature of madness. 

“I suppose this new arrangement of yours will be your downfall eventually. So let me just relay a message from the captain: ‘Accept your repayment for your services.’” 

It took another step towards them, eyes piercing into Crow. “You know what is expected of you, don’t you? Don’t disappoint again. There is only so much patience people can have for the likes of you, so do them all a favour and comply. Here, I’ll demonstrate.”

Joker felt like he was watching in slow motion as it raised the pistol in a very deliberate movement and pulled the trigger, too fast for any of them to react. 

It shot itself in the head, eyes never wavering until it turned to black smoke and ash. 

Joker was horrified at the scene. The cognition had been nothing like the real thing, but with what he just saw and the insinuation it had uttered, his mind immediately conjured up unwanted images of Akechi getting hurt, of being ordered to do this, he wouldn’t, would he…

He felt nearly sick, thinking that _this_ was how Shido perceived Akechi, that Akechi had worked under the orders of that monster for years. What had he really gone through in that time? 

He looked at his teammate, his friend, but the helmet concealed his face well. Joker could only read so much from his body language alone. Everyone was tense, not knowing what to say, and the silence hung there suspended between them all. 

The rest of the team wore expressions that ranged from worried to disturbed. 

“I can’t wait to punch Shido”, Queen eventually said, and it drew a few angry chuckles and murmured agreements from the others. 

Crows eyes darted around the hallway. “I wonder what he hoped to achieve with this.”

His practical stance on the matter broke Joker out of his stupor. He seemed to be alright, for now, and he had a point. If that cognition wanted them dead, why not follow through with its threat and shoot at least one of them? 

If its goal had been to sufficiently traumatise them, Joker had to salute it, because well done, but was that really the best defense Shido could come up with? It was not enough to deter them, if anything, their resolve was now hardened, everyone eager to introduce their weapons to Shidos stupid, self-entitled, stuck-up, arrogant face. 

If anything, they had wasted a few minutes talking to it. 

_But what if that was what it wanted? To be a distraction?_

With an uneasy feeling, Joker turned wordlessly on his heel and stepped out into the great hall that lay between them and the exit. He aimed for the banister, wanting to look down, but he had barely made it two steps out of the hallway when his fears were confirmed. 

The cognitions of the other guests had vanished, leaving spilled drinks and napkins and handbags and other clutter on the floor. In their stead, a whole army of Shadows was now filling the space, congregating on the lower floors, blocking the exit and climbing up the stairs to reach them. 

There were way too many to fight. “That’s not good”, Joker stated, turning around again to usher them back down the hall. They had to run and find the next saferoom. Skull and Mona had barely caught up to him as he bypassed them again, and one look was enough to send them into the beginnings of a panic. 

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me!”

“This isn’t good. Everyone, retreat!”

There was another cry from Panther. “There are Shadows coming up behind us! What’s the holdup, guys?” She was at the far end of the group, and Joker had to get on his tiptoes to get a glance at her, and more importantly, of the Shadows now advancing from beyond her. 

They were trapped. “Oracle!” he shouted.

“There are two big groups of Shadows coming at us in a pincer attack!” She was stating the obvious, but the confirmation got Joker rolling. If their choice was to either fight in the entrance hall or the hallway, they would go to the entrance hall. 

“Head for the exit!” he ordered, and pushed forward. “Everyone, get ready to fight!” If the Shadows were coming at them with full numbers, the Thieves wouldn’t hold back, either. 

He unleashed a Maragion at the nearest horde, pushing them back a little, freeing enough space for them to file out of the hall and spread into a proper fighting formation. His fellow Thieves did not disappoint; they were around him in an instant, teaming up to cover weaknesses, understanding each other without words. 

Well, and Crow was also there. 

As much as Joker had been looking forward to fighting with him, this situation was far from ideal for that particular setup. They weren’t that familiar with each other’s tactics and styles in the first place, and with the unknown Persona, his movements were entirely unpredictable for the team. They hadn’t had time to acclimatise, to get used to each other, and it showed now. 

He was holding his own just fine, decimating Shadows left and right, hitting them with powerful almighty attacks, but he was already drifting from the main group, trying to get as many enemies as he could, nearly hitting Noir and Fox, almost tripping over Mona as he failed to predict him coming into his space. 

The Shadows were crowding him, and Joker had to abandon his advance to keep the path between them open. “Crow, stay with the group!” he ordered gruffly, frustrated that he had failed to pre-emptively deal with this particular problem. They’d had a whole day to at least catch up on the commands and signs! Then again, this many Shadows was unprecedented. 

Crow threw a look at him, gaze darting between the Shadows and the group multiple times. “You know what”, he shouted, “if we’re not getting out of this, I’ll at least find Shidos Shadow and take him down with me!”

And with that outburst, Joker could only helplessly watch as Crow turned on his heel and fled, sprinting deeper into the bowels of the ship, tearing down the hallway, not minding the Shadows. 

Loki appeared, and a wave of the weird mist enshrouded the Shadows there, turning them against each other just like the last time, granting enough of an opening for Crow to vanish behind them and around a corner. 

“Crow, get THE FUCK BACK HERE!” Joker screamed, but it was futile. He was gone. 

“Don’t let him reach the captain!” one of the stronger Shadows growled in a deep, distorted voice, and those that were still of clear mind immediately gave chase. 

The Thieves were left with a fraction of their enemies. Apparently, the threat against the captain combined with the infamy of the black mask was a bigger concern than the rest of the Thieves combined.

“He’s really going for it!” Oracle informed him. Joker wanted to follow, but there were still enough enemies to occupy his team for good. 

He felt torn between getting them out and dragging Crow back (after beating the shit out of him for just abandoning them). What was he supposed to do here? Protect his main team or go after their one problem child?

Yea, as if that was a difficult decision. He knew which one he trusted more in this situation.

“Queen, you’re in charge! Mona, get them to the exit! Oracle, chart me a path to that fucking asshole, I’m going after him!”

Without looking back, he dashed to a window, shooting the glass before throwing himself outside (because impacting on a glass surface still hurt as he had discovered) and aimed his hookshot at a railing above him, swinging out in a wide arc. 

Going directly after them would only have him catch up with the rear end of the Shadow’s force, so he prayed to all gods that there was a way to intercept him from above. 

He heard Oracles voice in his ear, just like in the Casino. “He’s right in front of you, one level below. There should be a balcony up ahead that gets you inside.”

He had already spotted it, using the momentum of his swing to plant his feet on the railing, dislodging his anchor and wrenching the door open to get inside. It was a nondescript meeting room with a long table surrounded by uncomfortable wooden chairs.

He paid it no mind, exiting through the opposite door into a hallway. “Where next, Oracle?”

“Left”, she ordered, and he was off before she had finished the word. He was worried sick, hoping that he would find Crow in time, hoping that he could somehow get him to come back with them, hoping he wasn’t actually going to shoot the Shadow and bring the whole Palace down around them…

He felt oddly betrayed, even more so than when he had discovered Akechis original plan to actually murder him. He had wanted to be on the team, why could he not trust in their ability to get out of this safely? Did he really think so little of the Thieves?

There were only a few Shadows in his path, with the main bulk of them probably already engaged in one fight or another. The time for secrecy was over, so Joker didn’t bother sneaking by them, instead relying on speed as he zoomed past.

He was very grateful for all that training Ryuji had put him through. 

“It looks like he is crossing over to the other side of the ship. Turn right and then go straight ahead until you find a deck, you can probably meet him there.”

“Gotcha! How many Shadows?” Joker had no illusions about their chances in battle, but he needed to know anyway. 

“Yea that’s the weird thing, they keep stopping in small groups and clog the hallways, so they are fairly spread out at this moment. No guarantees it’ll stay that way once you’re in the open tho.” 

“Oh my god you have to be fucking kidding me.” Joker would have hit his head against the wall if he wasn’t too busy running right now. 

“Something wrong, Joker?” Oracle came through, sounding concerned. 

“I’m fine. I’ll kill that moron if we survive this!” He had been too busy being angry at Crow for not getting their cues to realize that he was not getting Crows cues either. 

If he was right…

“Joker, head right again and then take the second on the left, he’s crossing the deck in that direction, you can intercept him there!” 

He quickly tried to overlap their routes with his mental map of the place. Crow was now running back towards the exit after leading the Shadows in a big circle, turning small groups of them against each other and therefore trapping them in the narrow hallways. 

He was acting as bait. 

Joker was going to end him for his stupidity. If Crow didn’t end him first by giving him a heart attack. How could someone possibly be this reckless?

He nearly tripped over himself when Oracle screamed a loud “STOP!” right into his ear. Obediently skidding to a halt, he listened further as she continued “Turn around, he’s right behind you, coming up to your level?” 

It sounded like a question, maybe because there were no stairs in the vicinity that any of them knew about, but as he turned around, he nearly got smacked in the face by a door flying open as a certain black-clad figure came barrelling through. 

Instantly, the relief came like a big wave crashing over him. Joker moved around the door after his ally, throwing a quick glance inside to check for pursuers. He couldn’t see any, it was just a nondescript guest suite with an open balcony door. 

Crow didn’t see him, already moving in the opposite direction, and Joker barely managed to catch his wrist and stop him in his tracks. In hindsight, it was probably not the best idea to ambush someone that was clearly on the run, as the other spun around on instinct and something cold and metallic was shoved forcefully up under his chin. 

The impact made him bite the inside of his own cheek hard enough to draw blood and briefly white out his vision, before the offending object ( _Gun!_ ) vanished again before Joker could even properly process it had been there. 

“What are you doing here, you moron?” the other hissed at him. Gee, so much for gratitude. “Do you have a deathwish?” _Look who’s talking._

“I’m just making sure my newest team member doesn’t get himself killed on a routine infiltration!” he shot back, giving said team member a onceover to check for injuries. 

Finding none on first glance, he tightened his grip again, tugging the other down the corridor in the direction he had been heading before, following Oracles directions to manoeuvre the monotonous hallways back towards the exit. 

Crow wrenched his hand free as soon as they started moving, and they were both too preoccupied to talk much further. At least for now he was following his lead, and they made quick work of the few Shadows they stumbled across, barely stopping for them, ambushing them as a tag-team too fast for any of them to retaliate. 

They raced on before their enemies had completely dissolved, and it was indeed a race, each one of them trying to take the lead. Ryuji would have been proud of them; this was probably a personal best. 

Despite the circumstances, Joker couldn’t help to roll his eyes at his own childish behaviour. Even running for their lives managed to be turned into a competition. 

It was a good thing, because there were more Shadows coming after them the longer the chase went on, still far enough away to be out of sight for a few moments whenever they rounded a corner, but always close enough to hear. 

He couldn’t believe he had been looking forward to fighting together merely an hour ago, before everything had turned into an anxiety-inducing mess. Somehow, this was not what he had imagined. 

“Joker, we made it outside, but the Shadows are now coming for you from downstairs”, Oracle informed him. 

He sighed (or rather huffed) a breath of relief, and the part of his mind that had been worrying about them was now finally freed to plan his own escape. He had a vague idea and silently wondered just what about Crow made him resort to this particular stunt time and time again. 

He changed trajectory as they approached a set of stairs ahead, they were not far from the front now, and instead of down, he led them up. 

“Where-?”, Crow mumbled behind him, but he didn’t question Jokers decision (for once) and complied. 

“Just trust me!” he shouted over his shoulder, and somehow emboldened by the scowl that greeted him at the words, added a wink for good measure. 

He could feel the suspicion radiate off Crow in waves. 

Finally, they neared the end of a corridor towards the characteristic windows that marked the front of the diet building, the promise of the exit just behind. 

“This is a dead end, you moron!” 

“No it’s not, use your imagination.”

Just like before, he shot the window pane, twice for good measure this time, before anchoring his hookshot on the frame. 

“You can’t be serious.” Again, Joker internally cursed the full helmet the other was wearing, because judging by the tone of his voice at the realization just what exactly the plan was, his expression was _hilarious_ right now. 

“I am. Get over here.” As much as he would have enjoyed ruffling Crows feathers a little more, they were still in a bad situation. So he pushed him towards the window, wrapped an arm around his waist, hoping he remembered right what Kasumi had told him about anchoring someone else for these kinds of exercises, and then threw them both out the window. 

Crow was totally _not_ letting out a very undignified squeak at that.

They were only freefalling for two or three feet, but the sudden jerk as the line went taught had Jokers grip slipping, and he cursed a little as he belatedly remembered that he was supposed to use his free leg as additional support, the other braced against the wall to keep them from slamming into the concrete. 

Thankfully Crow had the presence of mind to hold on, digging his gauntlets painfully into Jokers shoulders as they rappelled down at a more controlled pace. They were still some good ways up, coming down between two of the pillars that decorated the front. 

He had briefly caught a glimpse of his team standing at the exit, and there was excited shouting as they spotted him. He couldn’t understand what exactly they were saying, the wind and the rush of blood in his ears were too loud. 

He desperately tried to hold on, the weight of an additional person was nearly tearing his right arm from its socket, his gloves couldn’t get a good hold on the smooth material of Crows suit, the claws in his shoulders were almost definitely shredding cloth and breaking skin, and that goddamned pointy helmet threatening to gauge his eyes out made it difficult to see. 

In his mind, he was counting from one moment to the next _Hold on one more second, and another, and another, almost there, just a little longer_.

Their trajectory changed out of nowhere, suddenly they were tugged upwards an inch, swinging a little with the force of it, and in the next the strain on his grappling arm was gone and they were falling before he could comprehend what was even going on. 

He had barely registered that they were even plummeting towards a very hard, very unforgiving floor, before his vision was filled with grey and gold and red, impacting on something soft enough to keep his bones from breaking, and then they were falling another short distance. 

Finally, he stopped moving. He tried to catch up with all the input his senses had given him over the last seconds. He was lying on something (mostly) soft and warm. There were lines of fire running from his shoulders down his back, and his coat was seemingly sticking to those areas. 

There was also light weight slung over him, pressing him down, and as he blinked through his mask, he could see black and blue ground beneath him, and something big loomed above them.

Lifting his head, he could see that Seiten Taisei was what had saved them, and all the way up he could see a Shadow glaring at them from the broken window, probably the one that had cut their rope. 

“Are you alive?” Crow asked with a tired sigh. The voice rumbled beneath Jokers ear and vibrated through his own chest. _Oh, the ground is Crow_. That would explain the warmth. 

“Yea”, he sighed back, content with doing nothing more than breathing for the moment. “You?”

“Never been better.” The sarcasm was almost a physical presence. 

A shove to his injured back (he realized that the fiery sensations were claw marks and blood) shook him out of his daze. “Now get the fuck off me! We need to go!”

The hard ground was much colder and much less comfortable, and Joker quickly snapped back into the present. Shadows, dangerous Palace, responsibility for his team, check. He jumped up, seeing the others standing around them in a half circle (when did that happen?), showering him with a mix of concern and anger. 

“Joker, what on earth were you thinking, running off like that?” Queen scolded him. 

“No, what was _he_ thinking?” Skull glared at Crow, who had picked himself back up as well and looked barely bothered at all, like he had just come back from a short walk. 

When he noticed the hostility now directed at him by the rest of the group, he merely crossed his arms in defiance and jutted his chin forward as if to say _Come at me, I dare you_. 

Joker stopped the argument before it could even start, one arm herding Panther, Skull and Mona towards the exit and the other shoving Crow along next to him. “He thought way ahead and saved our asses, let’s go now!” His voice let them all know that there was no room for debate on this topic.

This was neither the time nor the place for talking. 

The filed out of the Palace in record speed. Caroline and Justine were still not back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joker: If I had a hundred yen for every time Crows actions forced me to split from the main group to evade large hordes of enemies by throwing myself through a window and subsequently getting injured, for the sole reason of trying to save someone else’s ass, I would have three hundred yen. Which isn’t much, but given how specific that situation is, I shouldn’t have any money at all.


	10. Chapter 10

They transitioned from the Palace to the real world and then into Mementos in mere seconds. 

Joker ushered them all towards the subway entrance at a brisk pace, and only then, standing safely on the familiar platform at the top of the labyrinth stretching into darkness, he allowed them to take a breather. 

He was probably the one that needed it most. 

Their injuries had all vanished in their brief time transitioning from one Metaverse to the next, but the exhaustion of fighting a small war/running to evade the small army was still there. 

“Okay, we’ll take a break here. Panther, would you do the honours?”

“Sure thing!” she said cheerfully and started to hand out coffee in thermos cups and various snacks to match. 

Everyone was agitated by what had just transpired, and they wasted no time in seeking an outlet for their tensions. Queen accepted her cup, took one sip and then placed it carefully aside before squaring up to Crow. 

“Do you care to explain what on earth this was about?” she asked, voice tense. Skull, Mona and Fox came to back her up, forming a semicircle around their newest recruit, all probing glares and thinly veiled anger. 

Oracle and Noir were sitting on the side-lines, sipping their drinks and watching with rapt attention.

Joker remained standing a short distance away, arms crossed, ready to step in for either side depending on the course this confrontation was taking. Panther sidled up from behind, leaning onto his shoulder. 

“Are we going to stop them or…?” she whispered. 

“Not yet. If they want to talk, let them talk. Otherwise we can kiss cooperation goodbye. Let’s just make sure they don’t start fighting”, he answered. “Besides, I’m also very curious”, he added, jaw set in an angry line. He was still upset about the events, but it had morphed from worry to a slowly simmering fury that was directed at equal parts Crow, Shido and himself. 

Crow for running off to get himself killed, Shido for thinking about Akechi like he did, and himself for failing to properly prepare and keeping his team together. He knew that going after Crow had been the better course of action, otherwise the Shadows coming from the exit would likely have gotten him. 

Still, there was also a fair amount of guilt eating him up for abandoning the rest of the team. Logically, he knew that they were more than capable, but there was a tiny nagging voice that insisted they were angry at him for… what? Running off as well? Playing favourites? It made no sense, but that didn’t stop him from worrying. 

Crow seemed unbothered by the sudden confrontation. “I’m afraid you’ll have to clarify what exactly you mean when you say ‘that’”, he stated coolly. 

“Don’t play dumb with me!” Queen said, poking a finger at his chest, “We agreed to let you back on the team to deal with Shido, and that comes with a certain amount of responsibility. You can’t just decide that you’d rather run off to do your own thing just because you feel like it! If you willingly put us in danger, I won’t stand for it!”

That finally got a reaction out of Crow; he shoved her hand aside and leaned forward in a similar fashion, forcing Queen to retreat if she didn’t want her eyes poked out. “It appears we remember different events, because the last time I checked, I got rid of more than half of them by simply outrunning them instead of trying to fight a hopeless battle. You should thank me for saving your stubborn amateur asses!”

“Whilst that is not untrue, your recklessness could have just as easily gotten you killed at their hands”, Fox chimed in with a whole lot of condescending. 

“That would have been _none of your business_. Besides, I’ve had worse before. I know my limits quite well.”

“Like hell it’s not our business! You could’ve gotten Joker killed as well!” Skull glared at him, hardly containing his anger. 

Crow recoiled at the words, shifting back and crossing his arms defiantly. “I didn’t ask him to follow me!” he tried to defend himself, staring at a space on the floor. 

“As if we’d let you just go and cause a mental shutdown!”, Morgana hissed. “You would have killed us all if you had brought that Palace down around us!”

“That’s not- I was just saying that to get their attentions!” Crow hissed back. “I couldn’t even locate his shadow!”

“You can navigate?” Oracle piped up, choosing this to be her contribution to the exchange.

Crow turned to look at her, and he was probably (maybe?) rolling his eyes. “Wouldn’t have gotten far if I couldn’t!” he bit back. 

“See, that would have been useful information”, she grumbled to herself, going back to her snacks. 

“Yea, or knowing that the Shadows were coming after you like you’re public enemy number one!” Skull added. 

Crow opened his mouth to protest, but Noir beat him to it. “To be fair, he did mention that before we entered, if I recall.” She sipped daintily at her coffee. “Although I must admit, I was not expecting them to be quite so ferocious.” 

“That’s exactly what I mean!” Skull shot back at Noir, and Oracle asked “So how good are you at navigating?” whilst Queen spoke over Mona as they started to give Crow a dressing down. 

“And here we go again”, Panther observed. Joker nodded, and finally decided to step in as the conversation dissolved into chaos. 

“Guys. Guys! Calm down!” He had to shout to be heard, but they eventually relented. 

“Crow is right. We couldn’t have fought them all. Besides…” he sighed, trying to find a way to placate them all without brushing their concerns and worries aside.

“Look, that was not our best performance, and we”, he gestured between Crow and himself, “are going to have a conversation _later_. Unfortunately, that stunt probably _did_ save our asses.” He pointed at Crow. “Pull something like this again and you’re off the team”, he added with a stern look, making it very clear that he was not endorsing anything about that plan.

“I admit that it was partially my fault as well. I thought our time in the Casino would have been enough to get used to each other, but I was obviously wrong. There was a lot of miscommunication there, so we’ll just use this trip to make up for it. We have four targets, and we’ll start with the Cleaner.” 

He contemplated for a little while. “Crow, you’re up again.” 

There were a few confused looks, mainly from Queen and Mona, but they didn’t protest. 

“We need all the practise we can get”, Joker explained, “and I also want Panther and Noir. Any questions?”

Queen pointed a thumb at Crow. “What are we going to do if he bails on us again?” she asked with thinly veiled hostility. 

“Don’t be so mean, there is no need to worry”, Noir tried to soothe her. She walked up to the group, and placed a hand on Crows shoulder. “I’m sorry for their rash behaviour, we are all a little shaken after what happened”, she gave them all a _look_ , “but you probably had it the worst. So really, we should all be grateful that we got out of it alive and-“

“-And learn from the experience, we gotcha”, Skull interrupted, rolling his eyes in fond exasperation. 

Mona relented as well. “I admit that she has a point. That was… really something.” It didn’t take a genius to figure out he was talking about the cognition. 

“If you want to sit this one out, I can hand you the keys and you can take a break?” Panther offered. “We wouldn’t think less of you.”

Joker could watch Crows hackles rising at the unwanted sympathy. He knew the other would take this as belittlement, although his friends meant well. “Don’t worry, I’m still good to go. It’ll take more than some Shadows and poor insults to stop me. That wasn’t even his best attempt. Usually he’s more creative.” His voice didn’t waver in the slightest, but right at the end, the way he avoided to meet anyone’s eyes, rubbing at his injured shoulder, betrayed him. 

If _that_ was supposed to make them stop worrying, Joker had to applaud Crow for crafting the most backfire reassurance in the history of reassurances. 

He glanced at the rest of them, and he could tell they had noticed, too. 

“I look _so_ forward to punching that bastard”, Queen muttered. 

Fox, who had seemed to be lost in thought, re-joined the conversation. “There is one thing I’d like to ask, if you don’t mind”, he started hesitantly, fixing Crow with his gaze. “Are you indeed responsible for the psychotic breakdowns as well?”

“Yes.” Crow answered without hesitation, standing up straighter. “What of it?”

“Oh, just confirming. We suspected as much, but now at least we know that there is not yet _another_ person travelling the Metaverse”, he mused. 

“I don’t know-“ Crow started to speak up, but it was lost as their navigator butted in. 

“If you all are quite done there, I have our targets located. Everyone gtg?” Oracle interrupted. 

She gave Crow a look, who just shrugged. “Let’s get this over with.” He made his way towards the edge of the platform, and without any warning, was suddenly engulfed in blue flames. 

Joker felt a weird sense of dissociation, his mind immediately registered _Oh, he’s having an awakening_ whilst logic simultaneously contradicted that statement. 

The flames burned the black suit away and replaced it with the more familiar white garments and cherry red tengu mask they had come to know a month ago. 

Joker noticed that unlike him, Crow needed a few seconds to switch his Personas. _That’s really important to know!_ he thought, wondering if maybe he should have pressed harder when they had discussed the Metaverse. 

“What?” Crow asked, noticing that everyone was staring at him yet again. “You _just_ said that you work better with Robin Hood. Besides, I think Loki is done for today.”

“Thank you for your consideration, this is definitely going to make things easier”, Noir said, ever polite. 

“Huh, so the skins aren’t purely cosmetic, you actually have to change sets to use one or the other?” Oracle, as eloquent as she was pragmatic, asked.

With the new (old?) outfit, it was easier to assess Crow, and he blinked in confusion. “I don’t understand anything you are saying”, he answered, dead-pan.

“That is one thing we have in common, then”, Fox sighed. 

“Are we leaving anytime soon or can I come back up there?” Mona asked, already purring away on the tracks in his car form. 

“Sorry!” Panther shouted, clearly not sorry at all, but it got them going. Queen took the wheel, and the rest squeezed into their usual seats, the back row now slightly more squished together than usual to accommodate their rising numbers. 

As they tried to work out a new seating arrangement, Joker approached Crow (who was very obviously loitering on the platform for the sole purpose of escaping the mayhem and snatching a seat at the door) and dropped his voice to a whisper. 

“I hope you know that if you even _think_ about disobeying direct orders and running off on your own again, we will _all_ come after you to drag your sorry ass back to the surface, and next time I won’t stop them before they beat you up for it!”

Without awaiting a reaction, he moved on to claim shotgun, squishing into the seat with Oracle to call orders as she directed them.

The tension between them had dissipated a little, and they were soon back to either idly staring out the window or their usual small talk. 

He was trying to think of a way to involve Crow into their talking, when Skull saved him the effort. “Man, how deep do we gotta go?” he sighed. “Yo, Crow, don’t you know a secret shortcut or something that would help us get there faster?”

“What makes you think there is a shortcut?” 

“I dunno, how do you get around here? You don’t have a magical cat, do you? There’s gotta be something!”

“I walk?”

That prompted a choir of incredulous shrieks and terrified gasps as the conversation very rapidly spiralled into the logistics of traversing Mementos on foot, with a whole lot of _I couldn’t imagine_ and _Holy heck that’s impressive_ and _We would be stuck down here for days_ , and Crow dutifully shared some stories for the sole purpose of demonstrating his superiority, but it was all enjoyable. Somewhat. 

Joker was glad that they were all making an effort, if only because they knew how much it meant to him. 

They had to go pretty deep for their first target, and he thanked every god that they didn’t need to spend it in awkward silence. 

Instead, they found a healthier outlet for their frustrations as they stamped the Shadow of the Cleaner into the ground and then wiped the floor with it, even forgoing the usual (im)polite exchange of greetings and threats. The Shadow only spotted them after Panthers spells collided with its face. Better than therapy. 

Afterwards, they held a lengthy interrogation at gunpoint and found out that they had been right to worry. 

“What are your orders from Shido?” Joker demanded. 

The Shadow, which was again eerily calm, not begging or apologizing like they usually did, regarded them with a cold look. “There are a lot of orders right now. Murder, blackmail, kidnapping, bribing… The works.”

“And who is on that kill list of yours specifically?”

The Shadow shrugged. “You lot. That detective kid. A bunch of politicians and corporate managers. We’re kind of overworked, to be honest.”

Queen stepped forward. “And how exactly are you going after them? What do you know?”

“My, you are a persistent bunch, aren’t ya? Don’t worry, we know next to nothing about you kids, and that detective ditched like two days ago, lucky for him. Went from off-limits straight to priority number one. Got me wondering what he did to deserve special treatment like that.”

“And you’re still after him?” Crow butted into the conversation, immediately shushed by the rest of them. Luckily, it seemed that the Shadow could not recognise him without the black mask, mistaking him for one of the Thieves for the moment. 

The Shadow shook its head. “As nice as that paycheck would’ve been, we’re not actually taking jobs from that man right now. He’s given us more than a dozen assignments in the last few days alone, so it looks like things aren’t going too well for him. If he wins the election, I might reconsider. Gotta make sure the effort pays off, after all.”

Noir stepped forward, all poise and smile. “If I may offer you some advice; you would probably do best to avoid Masayoshi Shido from now on. We have very reliable intel that he will not win the election due to upcoming personal problems, so you might want to start distancing yourself as much as possible. I doubt he’ll be able to do anything for you in a months’ time, much less pay your bills. Alright?”

The Shadow narrowed its eyes at her. Suddenly, it smirked, baring its teeth at them. “I guess I’ll take your word for it. Now then, if that is all…” Without awaiting an answer, it dissipated, leaving a small treasure in the form of a Yakuza pin behind. 

“So that’s one problem taken care of. On we go!” Panther sing-songed. It was good to know that they would no longer have to worry about the Yakuza, but to hear that Shido was giving out kill orders left and right was somehow more worrying. 

Was he going insane or had the power simply gone to his head?

Either way, they had to take care of him soon.

They resumed their trip through Mementos, tracking down their other targets on the way back up. They were mostly small fry, the short notice hadn’t allowed for research on bigger fish. 

Their teamwork improved quite a bit, and Joker picked as many fights as they could safely handle, gathering loot and money, collecting masks and hoping to maybe gain them some new skills for their upcoming boss fight.

It was tedious and time-consuming, but they also ran into José twice, who managed to cheer them all up with his happy attitude. 

Still, it took them a good portion of the remainder of the day, and by the end of their excursion, they were all tired and more than ready to get out of the Monabus and stretch their legs. 

Joker was lost in his own mind for most of it, trying to figure out what to say…

He barely registered as they arrived, and he congratulated them on a job well done. 

“We’ll meet again at the café on Saturday for the calling card, if that is enough time for you, Oracle?”

“Consider it done!”

“Good. Take care on your way home.”

They started heading to the exit, shooting him subtle looks as he made no move to follow them. He dismissed Panther and Queens concerned stares with a small shake of his head, steeling his nerves. “Crow, a word.”

Crow sighed in annoyance as he stopped walking, back turned to Joker, until the rest of them had left. 

There was a long moment of silence. Joker wanted the other to turn around and at least look at him, and he would patiently wait for however long that was going to take. 

The tension stretched in the vast space of the underground platform, quiet noises floating up through the tunnels like whispers on the wind. 

They stood there for what must have been several minutes. 

“Would you please look at me?” Joker finally grit out through his teeth. 

Crow turned reluctantly, arms folded. He jutted his chin forwards a little as if to say _what?_

Something about him gave Joker pause. This was not his usual stubbornness. His shoulders were drawn back and his whole posture slumped a little. He looked like someone who was just waiting for the shouting to be over so they could go back to whatever they had been doing before. 

Joker took his mask off and put it inside his coat, rubbing at his tired eyes. 

“Look”, Akira started, “I’m not denying that your plan kind of worked back there. It may or may have not gotten us all out without any bigger problems. But”, he continued with more emphasis, “if you ever do something like that again, I swear to god that it will be your last time coming to the Metaverse. There are certain rules in this team, and these rules are to be followed. Including _not running off to do your own thing_.”

He kept his voice calm. This was not an argument, this was an explanation, he reminded himself. 

“If I hadn’t run off, they would have killed us all. Don’t tell me you were actually planning to fight! Besides, you ran off right after me, didn’t you? Aren’t you being a hypocrite about this?” Crow defended himself. 

Akira felt a headache coming. “Yes”, he admitted, slowly letting out a breath. “But. I communicated this to the team. I got support from Oracle. I told them what my plan was. And they knew _I_ was going to come back.”

“So basically you’re saying that you don’t trust me without supervision. I get it”, Crow answered, anger lacing his voice. 

„You could have _died_ in there!“ Akira didn’t mean to shout, he just couldn’t hold it back any longer. Crow had a way of getting him worked up. 

“And you nearly died two days ago, but you don’t see me making such a big deal of it!”

“That was different!”

“How!?” Their argument became louder with each sentence, until they were both yelling, the sound amplified in the vast space around them. 

“You- We are supposed to be a team here! We need to work together and look out for each other!” Akira argued, exasperated, because it was really not that complicated of a concept. 

“And I was looking out just fine by drawing them away”, Crow countered, throwing his arms in the air. “Or would you have rather sacrificed yourselves like that… that thing suggested? What was your plan against that many Shadows, Kurusu? Would you really have endangered your entire team just like that?”

“You are part of the team! And the only one who was even remotely listening to that cognition was you, if you were that ready to kill yourself by acting as bait!”

“Maybe I should have! That would save you the trouble, wouldn’t it?”

Suddenly, it was very quiet. Akira tried to process what he had just heard, because surely there had to be a mistake. He felt somehow very, very cold, the fire that had been burning in his veins extinguished just like that. 

“You… you don’t mean that.” Akira stepped carefully closer. “Don’t say things like that”, he pleaded.

“Oh come on, where you even listening? Don’t tell me you’re just going to ignore that all. It was mostly true, after all.” Crows voice had dropped back to a normal volume as well. He sounded tired. 

“You’re kidding me.” Akira slowly raised his hand, until he could grip the red mask. 

He lingered for a moment, waiting for a protest to come, and then slowly lifted it away and set it aside. Another wall down. He was getting to the core of this, slowly but surely. Carefully. 

“What part of that did even remotely strike you as a truth? That was just Shidos cognition lying to you. You said yourself that he is a piece of shit that is not worth listening to!”

“I killed those people. My mother killed herself because she couldn’t take it! Couldn’t bear having me around! And neither did any of the foster homes they passed me off to! I worked so hard on my image, on my grades, on everything, just so somebody could maybe stand to be around me! And even Shido, who wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without me, planned to get rid of me from the moment we met. Isn’t that ironic!?”

Akechis voice had picked up again as he spoke. Instead of anger however, this time there was something raw, vulnerable, switching between panicked and hurt, and Akira braced himself as he finally saw the breaking point coming. It had been waiting underneath the surface for the past few days, and he had known it would come to this sooner or later. 

In a way, he was surprised it had taken that long. Still, he wasn’t ready for what followed. 

“Nobody… nobody wants me. Even for your team, I’m just a liability. You saw how they targeted me. I can’t even help you fight him. I’d just create an obstacle the moment we step inside again. I’m _useless_ to you!”

Akechis hands were balled into fists at his sides, and Akira could see that he was trembling.

“That’s not true-“ he started, softly, taking another step closer. 

„I wanted to _kill you_!“ The shout stopped him, a reflexive response to the volume. Akechi finally met his eyes, and he was breathing heavily. His eyes were wide, but there was neither anger nor resentment there. If anything, he seemed scared. 

“ _No._ ” Akira couldn’t believe that Akechi was lying to him even now. Or did he really believe what he said?

“Listen to me, and listen carefully.” He caught Akechis gaze, forcing him to look, to see. To understand. “You never wanted to kill me, and we both now it. Because if you did, you would have done it. You had the opportunity. Twice. Shido wanted me dead. Shido wanted you to kill me.”

This was what it all revolved around, their whole dilemma. Akira didn’t know if Akechi felt responsible or guilty, or if he thought that he was being blamed for anything, but if the situation got boiled down to the mere facts, there was another way to look at it that made more sense in Akiras mind. 

He could have been shot in the interrogation room. He could have been impaled on a ship. And there was one reason he wasn’t. 

“You _saved_ my life. Because you wanted to. And I don’t know why you refuse to let me repay the favour! Because I want to. You asked me that, remember? What I want from you?”

He put his hands out, setting his fingertips onto Akechis shoulders in an almost-grip, not quite sure if he would be allowed to come closer, but desperately wanting to. The other was looking blankly into space, all fight drained out of him. 

“I want us to be friends. So just- allow me to care, without pushing me away. You don’t have to worry that I-“ He broke off, voice cracking, and hell, why was he the one nearly crying now? This wasn’t about him! His own problems could be shoved to the back for now. 

He gave Akechi a pleading look, willing him to understand, to accept, to open up for once goddammit- 

Akechi stared at him, unsure. He looked like he wanted to be angry, but had finally run out of things to be angry about. It was… disbelief? In a twisted kind of way, it made sense, but Akira hated to draw that conclusion.

Did he really think Akira was keeping him around purely for his own gain? That his intel and fighting power were the only things justifying his place on the team? That they would discard him the moment his usefulness ran out?

That this was just another game to him?

Akira didn’t know what to say. He wished he could tell Akechi how untrue that was, and that there was nothing to worry about, but how could he make him _believe_ it?

He tightened his grip a little, tugging forward. Akechi didn’t react. He might as well have tried to coax a stature closer. So Akira settled for Plan B. 

With one step, he closed the distance between them, his left arm wrapping around Akechis shoulders, hand cradling the back of his head and drawing him closer, fingers dipping into silky, soft strands of hair, the other hand coming to rest between his shoulder blades after wrapping securely around his middle. 

They were about the same height, so it was easy for Akira to rest his own chin on Akechis shoulder as he firmly pressed their bodies together in an embrace. He could feel a fast heartbeat beneath his right palm, and when Akechi didn’t immediately retaliate (or react in any way, really), he started to rub soothing lines up and down his spine, trying to exude a calmness he wasn’t really feeling. 

Next to him, he could feel Akechis hands hovering mid-air, unsure of what to do, the act apparently catching him off-guard. Akira could feel the tension, the holding of a breath and the rigidness of every muscle. 

“I want to have you around, Goro.” 

It was just a whisper, mumbled into the fabric of Akechis suit where Akira tilted his head so he could feel the warmth radiate against his own skin, inhaling the familiar scent, lips pressed to the juncture of neck and shoulder in something that was just so not quite a kiss. He doubted Akechi could feel it through the starched fabric of his collar anyway. 

His words seemed to break the spell, because next thing he knew, the air was literally squeezed out of him in a huff; he could feel arms around his back, hands fisting into his clothing with enough force to bunch up the fabric to a point where Akiras shirt collar was pulled tight against his throat. 

Akechi clung onto him like his life depended on it, and although he didn’t make a single sound, Akira was fairly sure he was crying. 

He could feel every breath, every shudder, the beat underneath his fingertips picking up, and his own vision became blurry, because there was nothing he could do to make this whole mess, all these big and small problems that had piled up over years and years, that Akechi had been forced to carry on his own, any better.

He couldn’t take it away, and fixing it was a thing that would take time, if it was at all possible. Biting down hard on his own bottom lip in an effort to keep it together, Akira forced himself to breathe steady and calm, letting the tension seep out of his body. 

Being an anchor was all that he could offer right now, but he would be damned if he didn’t try his best at it. 

Akira wanted to give, to help, however small that help would be. He wanted to hold on tight until the broken pieces would stick back together. He wished for Arsénes wings, wanting to encircle them both in a small tent of black feathers, shutting the world out until it mattered no more, keeping them safe, secure, warm. 

He wanted to say _”I love you”_ more than he could describe, the feeling almost painful as it grew to be too large to be contained within his chest. But that would be selfish; Akechi had enough to deal with already, and adding to that pile of issues wouldn’t do either of them any good. 

It could wait. Because they would both be there, in a few months’ time, a year, when everything had settled down and their lives were no longer in danger. Akira would see to that. 

“Hey”, he started softly, “hey, shhhh, it’s-“ _It’s what? Fine? Alright? Going to be okay?_ None of that was true, none of these were promises he could make, however badly he wished he could. He would not lie to him. 

“I’m here, okay, I’m here. And no matter what happens…” Akira swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, “no matter what, I will be here. You will _always_ have a place with me. I swear, on everything that I’ve ever loved, that you’ll always have a place with me.”

“I d-don’t understand y-you…” The admission was barely intelligible as the first audible sobs started wrecking through his body, and that was the final straw that got Akiras tears to spill over as well. 

He felt so helpless. 

“I’m s-sorry that I f- I fucked up back there…” Akechi continued feebly.

Akira shook his head slightly, even though they couldn’t see each other. “It’s okay, I just- I was so _scared_ ”, and he really had to concentrate to keep his own voice at least somewhat steady. “What if something had happened to you…?”

“…why do you even care…?”

Akira attempted a shrug. It came out a little awkward. “How could I not? You’re… you’re _you_.”

The only reply he got was another sob that could maybe have been an incredulous laugh. Akira held on tighter, and just allowed Akechi his time. 

He couldn’t imagine how frightening it must have been to go through the Metaverse alone, to go through life alone, only to have everything crash and burn around you with no means to go on after that, having to depend on the goodwill of the people that had been your enemy only days prior. 

Eventually, the tears dried up, and as much as Akira enjoyed their proximity, he thought that maybe Akechi would feel better if he got something to eat, a shower and then some well-deserved rest. 

So he gently pulled back, one hand holding onto Akechis shoulder. He looked about as bad as expected after this, eyes red and watery, blotches of colour on his cheeks, hair dishevelled, and predictably exhausted. 

Akira gave him a reassuring smile, knowing that he himself hardly looked any better, and started to nudge them towards the exit. “What do you say we go back? I don’t know about you, but I’m freezing down here.”

And it was cold, now that he had let go. 

Akechi looked hesitant. “Is it really okay? If… if I stay? I mean, what about the others?” 

Akira rubbed at his neck and grinned sheepishly, if slightly wobbly still. “I promise, it’s fine. I mean, they were right to be angry about your behaviour, but they don’t hate you.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“’Course. We had that discussion already, letting you back on the team in the first place, and they all agreed unanimously. Some more readily than others, but they were all in favour. Don’t worry. They care, too.”

There was just a small hum in response, and they finally got going. Akiras hand held onto Akechis sleeve during the whole trip, and he wasn’t asked to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Thieves, gathered together
> 
> Akira: I’m glad you all okay with this but I honestly expected more objections.  
> Ann: I mean he outed himself by talking about Pancakes of all things.  
> Ryuji: And then he didn’t even notice that he heard four people talking and there were only three standing there.  
> Morgana: I insulted him for months whenever he came by and he had to pretend he couldn’t hear me.  
> Futaba: I have a fourteen-minute-long video compilation of all the really bad jokes he made on TV, I mean look at that guy! He _is_ the joke.  
> Makoto: If you knew the stuff my sister told me about the times they worked together…  
> Yusuke: There was also that one time he nearly perished because of some slightly spicy food.  
> Noir: It’s kind of hard to take him seriously after all that.  
> Akira: We adopting?  
> Thieves: We adopting.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this chapter got massively out of hand and I had to split it into two, just as a heads up. I hope I managed to put the break at a reasonable point.

After returning to Anns apartment, Goro immediately took the first opportunity to hide away in the room that was currently designed ‘his’. 

He had been feeling… not better, necessarily, but more… relieved(?), after sharing his doubts about himself and the Thieves (and crying a lot). _’Catharsis’_ he thought. 

By now he was just very tired and very, very embarrassed. His head hurt from crying, and he had avoided looking at reflective surfaces on their journey, but he could tell without them that he looked like a mess. Pathetic. 

He didn’t really know what to do, so he simply changed into his sleepwear and crawled underneath the covers, despite it being barely past eight in the evening. 

He was tired, but not sleepy, and so he let his mind drift a little, listening to the sounds of the house and the city outside, turning the events of the day over and over and over again in his head. 

That cognitive version of himself troubled him. Hearing the accusations it spouted had been bearable somewhat, it was nothing new, after all. That the Thieves had also heard this was the most concerning part, but according to Akira, they didn’t necessarily believe it.

That Shido thought of him as an instrument, he knew already. 

No, what really bothered him was what it had done in the end. Shot itself in the head on Shidos orders. Goro had immediately felt himself reminded of the newest version of his recurring nightmares. Where the _exact same thing_ happened. 

It was a coincidence, of that he was sure. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t disturbing as hell. He wondered what he would be seeing tonight. 

He was rudely pulled back into reality when someone knocked on his door, and he could hear Takamakis voice come through. “Dinner is ready!” 

Goro didn’t answer, hoping that she would just go away if he pretended to be asleep. She knocked once more, louder. “Akechi? Did you hear me?”

“Yes” he finally got out, muffled by the sheets he had bunched up around him. “I’m not hungry.” He knew he should probably eat to replenish his energy after a whole day of fighting, but he really didn’t want to face the others right now. 

He knew he was acting like a spoiled child, but he frankly was past the point of caring.

After a few moments of hesitation, she retreated from the door back into the kitchen. 

The sun had set hours ago, but now that it was actually getting late, the world outside started to calm down as people settled in their own homes. Goro watched the strip of light at the bottom of the door that let into the hallway, the brightest thing in an otherwise dark room.

He saw the shadow of a person coming to stand outside about half an hour later, and so was not surprised by the knocking this time. 

“Hey, we left you some food in the fridge. I’ll be in the living room if you need something, alright?” Kurusu lingered for a moment, probably to see if he would get an answer. He left after there obviously wasn’t going to be one, and Goro had half a mind of calling out. 

But he didn’t know what he would say, and he was relatively comfortable, so he stayed put. 

He thought about what Akira had said, replaying the words in his mind. 

Eventually, the light in the hallway vanished. 

He thought about everything that had gone wrong today. 

Most of all, he was disappointed in himself. He knew that he was shit at showing it, but he had been grateful. To be allowed on the team, to have a place to stay, to be trusted enough to come with them to see his goals of three years at least partially accomplished. 

And then he had done nothing to actively work with them. Sure, he had kind of tried to be helpful in the Palace. He had warned them about the Shadows. He thought he had done well by drawing them away to enable them to escape. That was kind of teamwork, right?

It was just that his communication with them had been more than lacking. 

It was just that he hadn’t expected them to care. Hadn’t expected Joker to actually come after him. He though they would have left, maybe waited around the exit to see if he’d show up, and then perhaps he would have gotten some polite acknowledgement for doing the risky job for them. 

He had been the cause of their troubles, so it would be natural that he was also the one responsible for resolving the issue, right?

But that had been the wrong thing to do. They had been angry at him for attracting the Shadows, and they had been angry that he had let the Shadows away. And he’d just tried to be useful. Apparently, it hadn’t been enough. 

He was supposed to be a valuable addition to their fighting force. He was supposed to be the one with three years of experience. 

He wasn’t supposed to cause them additional work. He wasn’t supposed to be _not good enough_. He wasn’t supposed to come back from this trip feeling like a failure. 

He didn’t really know how to be _better_. 

He didn’t necessarily _want_ to bicker and argue with them, challenge them until they had to concentrate on their conversations just to stand their ground. 

And he had enjoyed their discussions-sometimes-turned-arguments. 

Because negative attention was still better than no attention, and he hated it so much, his thoughts circling back time and time again from the moment he and Akira had met, because he could not have picked a worse person to be fascinated by if he tried. 

And now he had been offered friendship, of all things, and he simply didn’t know how to deal with the _good_ attention he was getting. 

Goro knew that he was in the wrong. He wasn’t stupid. He knew that he had dug this pit himself with his own past behaviour. They had reasons not to trust him, they had reasons not to like him. 

Normal people would probably have tried to apologize. Unfortunately, Goro didn’t particularly believe in apologies. In the world of adults, they were mostly empty words, spoken where they were expected, to keep appearances, not because they actually meant something. 

But then again, he hadn’t had this kind of connection with other people in a long time. After the second foster home, he had been cautious whenever it came to forming more than shallow and superficial relationships, because he could never be sure that he was actually going to stay around for more than a few months. 

And even if people stayed longer, if they were supposed to be there for years and decades to come, they could decide that they’d rather leave you. Leave this world. Go where you can never follow, knowing full well what it will do to you and still not care. 

Simply put, he was scared. He was scared to let his own defences down even further, because what if they laughed at him or pitied him or called him out on it for being clingy and needy?

What if it _was_ a trick, a game, a prank, just one he couldn’t figure out?

How did Akira do it, befriending people so easily, without being terrified of rejection? Of loss?

Then again, he had offered, almost insisted, on Goro asking him if he needed something, but needing and wanting were two different things, and how could he impose after they already granted him a place to sleep and paid for his food (and everything else)? 

Surely there were limits dictated by basic decency? No, he shouldn’t be greedy, this was fine, he was fine, it was more than enough, more than he could expect, more than he deserved…

_But what if it would be alright?_

That conversation had been embarrassing to say the least, he felt pathetic even remembering it… But Akira had said some nice things. Very nice things. 

Things he hadn’t even known he wanted to hear. 

If he… if he asked now, instead of waiting for days and days… Maybe he could excuse any unwanted requests on his earlier breakdown? Play the pity card? He hated the thought, but it was an excuse. If this backfired, he could claim plausible deniability or something. Blame the exhaustion, go back to sleep and pretend it never happened. Yea, that was good. 

If he wanted to start over, this was his opportunity. If they lapsed back into their old routines, they would have a hard time breaking out of it. And it was not like something drastic had to change. Akira had put up with him so far. All Goro had to do was to give some form of confirmation, that he wanted to be here as well, that he was willing to work with them. 

Finally, after chasing the thought around his head for another couple of minutes, he caved. 

He snuck out of the room and across the hall to where Akira was staying, and… hesitated with one hand poised to knock. It was already past midnight, surely he would be asleep by now.

Even though he had said he often stayed up late.

Maybe just open the door and check? If he was asleep, he could go back to his own room without waking him. It was rude, but not as rude as waking someone up, right?

Fiddling with the hem of his shirt, he slowly opened the door just a crack, the faint illumination from his own open door spilling inside through the gap and falling across the bed at the other side of the room. 

It was very clearly empty. 

For a brief moment, a traitorous voice in his head whispered that Akira didn’t want to be around him anymore and had just left to go back to Leblanc. 

Thankfully, the rational part of his mind reminded him that in that case, he would not have left his belongings here, and Goro would have probably noticed something like that, even through the door of his room. 

He quietly closed the door again, not wanting to look like a total creep, and moved towards the living room. 

The lights were out and he couldn’t hear anything, but Akira had said he would be there, and there was frankly no other option. 

_Unless he’s hanging out with Takamaki. They are probably making fun of you, or planning how to get rid of you._

The living room seemed vacant, making his theory all the more likely. It was completely dark, the TV was off, and he couldn’t hear a single sound aside from his own feet on the floor as he made his way to look out the windows without any real goal on mind. 

He should have taken the offer to eat dinner with them. 

He still was not hungry, but for the lack of anything better to do, he contemplated looking for leftovers anyway. Maybe he would feel better after eating. 

Turning from the windows to the kitchen, he nearly had a heart attack when he noticed something moving in his periphery. 

Whipping around at lightning speed, he saw a lump on the couch that was now sitting up and he instinctively recognized it as Akira. 

By now, his eyes had adjusted to the low light, and he could see the other was blinking at him, rubbing at his eyes after apparently just waking up. He was still in his day clothes, curled up under a thin blanket and nestled into a pile of couch pillows. 

“Hey”, he murmured, voice a little rough from sleep. 

Goro didn’t know what to say. He had come here specifically in the hopes of talking to Akira, and now he immediately wanted to bolt again. “Hey”, he parroted back, trying to figure out just what was going on. 

“What are you doing here?”, he asked.

Akira shrugged. “Told you I’d be here if you needed anything”, he explained, as if camping out on the sofa in case the guy that nearly got you killed earlier that day and then refused to even talk to you about it changed his mind was the obvious course of action.

“Oh. Okay.” Goro didn’t know how to feel. He was happy that apparently Akira meant what he had said, when he was obviously waiting here _just in case_ , but at the same time he felt slightly guilty. 

After a stretch of silence, Akira cocked his head questioningly. “Well. Do you need something?” he asked softly, eyes full of concern and kindness, and suddenly, Goro felt himself _craving_. For understanding, without judgement, for someone to listen, hell, he would give anything for another hug, because he couldn’t remember the last time someone had hugged him, and it had been _so nice_. 

So of course his answer to Akiras question was “No. Just couldn’t sleep.” Better to keep himself in check before he became dependant or something. _Can’t lose what you don’t have._

“You hungry?” Akira followed up, because of course he wouldn’t just let the conversation go. 

Goro turned towards the window so he wouldn’t have to look at that ridiculously friendly face that he very clearly didn’t deserve. “No.”

“You want to talk?”

Suddenly, he felt like he really didn’t want to do that anymore. He just wanted to… to what? _Curl up next to him and go to sleep. I’m so tired._ He banished the image as soon as it flashed in his mind, because that was truly dangerous territory. Ridiculous!

So he stayed quiet. He didn’t know why this was so hard all of a sudden. He had barely needed an excuse to start a chat with Akira in the past. 

He could hear the shuffling as the other got up and came to stand next to him, looking at Goro carefully from the side. “Hey. It’s okay if you don’t… But if you don’t say _anything_ , I can’t help. You need to throw me a bone here. Do you want to talk? Do you want me to leave?”

“I-“ Goro took a deep breath. “Fuck”, he muttered, closing his eyes and pressing his hands against them until he saw stars. “Yes… If you don’t mind.”

“Yes you want to talk or yes you want me to leave?” Goddammit. 

For some reason, he felt more alone than he had ever before, despite someone being _right there_ , yet unreachable across some invisible chasm separating them. Or was he?

He dared to sneak a glance at Akira, who was patiently waiting for a response, one hand half outstretched as if he had been about to reach out, and in a lapse of judgment Goro just tipped forward until his head rested against Akiras shoulder, desperately wanting to hide from these piercing eyes that seemed to look right through him. 

“I don’t know anymore”, he admitted in a whisper, and fuck, why was his throat feeling so tight again? He screwed his eyes shut, willing the feeling to go away, because he absolutely refused to cry again. 

It was the uncertainty that really got to him. For years, he’d had his path cut out, fenced by others, but with a clear goal at the end. And then he had strayed from that path at the last possible moment. 

He felt lost. His whole life was suspended in some kind of limbo, he didn’t know what was to come, where he wanted to go, where he _could_ go. 

He could still see his goal in the distance, a light far away, something distantly familiar to orient himself. But he wasn’t heading there anymore, not in the way he had thought.

He had no idea how to navigate this new direction. The only other thing he could vaguely rely on for support were the Phantom Thieves, simply by virtue of being the only ones that even knew he was there. 

He just needed _something_ to hold onto. 

And right now, his best option was standing in front of him, a bit startled as Goro subconsciously twisted his body to the side so he could press a little closer. 

There was a gentle push to his shoulders and a rush of cold air as Akira stepped backwards, and of course he should have seen that coming, should have known that it was too much, he had always been too much…

He didn’t open his eyes, had hanging low in defeat, waiting for footfalls to retreat. Instead, he felt a hand on his shoulders, gently nudging forward, and he blindly obliged without thinking. “C’mon, let’s sit down. The floor is freezing.”

Goro looked down and yes, Akira was right, it was cold, and he was barefooted, and sitting actually sounded nice. 

So he let Akira pull him the five steps over, and then was suddenly left standing on his own as Akiras legs hit the couch and he let himself collapse with more grace than should be possible in this scenario. 

He stood and watched as Akira nestled himself into the corner of the L-shaped sofa, rearranging pillows and struggling with the blanket and then shoving it aside when it failed to do as asked.

Goro figured that he probably was _supposed_ to sit down and get comfortable as well, but he didn’t know where he wanted to sit, or how close he wanted to sit, how close he would be allowed to sit, and if maybe he could get the blanket since Akira seemingly didn’t want it, because it was really cold now that he was aware of it, and he still wanted some-

“There.” Akiras voice shook him out of his strategical planning as the other tossed a final pillow to the side. Goro stared at the open palm that was suddenly thrust out in his direction with obvious confusion. 

He could see Akiras smile faltering a little at his hesitation, and Goro just didn’t want to disappoint him again, after everything. So he took the hand without thinking, and Akira tugged him on to sit in front of him, nudging him in the side so he was facing away. 

There was still space between them, but it wasn’t much. He could feel Akira shift behind him. 

“Can I try something?” Akira asked. The words alone made it sound like it might be a trap, but Akiras tone was calm and soothing, and so Goro nodded warily, holding his breath in anticipation of whatever he had just subjected himself to. 

He jerked in surprise as hands pressed into his shoulders without further warning. Akira chuckled behind him at the exaggerated reaction, before he mumbled a quiet “Sorry, my bad. Just relax, alright?”

Goro wanted to protest, or at least ask what was going on, but his confusion was immediately replaced by a feeling of utter bliss as Akira started to knead the tension in his muscles away. 

His shoulders drooped and he let his head hang forwards to allow for better access, trying to fold his legs into a more sustainable position. 

He didn’t really know what was happening, what had brought this on in the first place, but he would be damned if it wasn’t one of the best feelings he’d had in the past month. 

Akiras hands stilled after a moment. “This okay?” he asked, probably confused by the utter lack of reaction. Goro tried to play it cool and managed a pathetic noise of agreement that he wasn’t even aware he could make, already mourning the loss, but then Akira continued without further prompting. 

“You know, you can tell me to stop anytime, but I’ve been learning to give massages from a pro and I’ve always wanted to try it out. I think there’s nothing better after a long day in the Metaverse. Then again, I’m a very touchy kind of person, and I know it’s not for everyone. I mean, Kawakami - she’s the one teaching me, pun intended – when she’s done with you, you’ll regret your life choices, but there’s no denying it works wonders. Or maybe the extra energy is just a response to the pain. She’d probably yell at me for not doing it properly right now, but I think it’s also nice to keep it just a tad more casual, because otherwise I get cramps in my fingers after a few minutes, and I have literally no idea how she does it-“

Akira was rambling on in a hushed tone, probably just to fill the silence, and Goro let the words wash over him, just tuned in enough to get the general gist of what was being talked about. 

He knew perfectly well what Akira was doing – trying to get him as comfortable as possible, making him relax, seating them so that they couldn’t really see each other, holding a nonsense-monologue, all to accommodate him. 

Goro sighed internally. He appreciated the effort, but he was not that fragile. He could talk without needing to be cushioned like this.

“What do you want me to do when we go into the Palace again?” Goro interrupted.

Akira stayed quiet for a while. “Honest answer?” he asked. 

Goro nodded. This wasn’t about exchanging pleasantries. He wanted to justify being taken along, and if that meant relinquishing the judgement to Akira, he’d do it. He wouldn’t do anything that was obviously stupid, of course. However, there was no denying the fact that Joker was a great leader, and really, Goro was more than prepared to let someone else do the thinking for once. His own hadn’t gotten him anywhere in recent times. 

“Stay outside”, Akira said. 

Anger and irritation started to flare up inside Goro, but he forcefully extinguished them. He could at least get an explanation before he lashed out. “Why?” 

Akiras hands wandered from his shoulders to his neck, blunt nails scratching lightly on his skin and through his hair, contemplating. 

“The next time we go in there is to steal the treasure. So far, that also always included a fight against the ruler’s Shadow. And since Shido is aware of the Metaverse, it stands to reason that his Shadow, aside from being powerful, also has a few tricks up his sleeve. He also has a personal grudge against you. So it is very likely that you would be the main target. At the same time, we simply lack experience in working together. We get along fine if you use Robin Hood, but not to the point that I’m confident in taking you along to a bossfight of that calibre. Depending on weaknesses and all that, everyone needs to be able to fight with everyone. And that is just the practical part. You also don’t know most of our standard procedures, sign language, code words and combinations.”

“I picked up quite a lot in Saes casino”, Goro remarked. He _had_ noticed, and he was fairly sure he had more of these things figured out than they gave him credit for, even without explanations. 

Akira hummed. “I don’t doubt that, but in there, we used only the bare minimum. Specifically so you wouldn’t figure them out. Do you even know what a ‘Showtime’ is?”

Goro had to admit that he had no idea. “But you were fine in taking me along to the fight against Saes Shadow. I don’t see why this is different just because I might be the prioritized target. In a way, that would make things easier for you, wouldn’t it? You wouldn’t need to worry about yourselves as much.”

“Those were different circumstances. And just so you know: Acting as a decoy does shit to help us. It just means I need to worry about keeping you alive. Besides, these kinds of stunts are usually my area of expertise.”

“And why are you so adamant about keeping everyone nice and safe when you have no problems throwing yourself headfirst into the fray? Sounds kind of hypocritical to me.” It was a genuine question. There was a noticeable trend with Akira taking the risks. 

“Because I am the leader. I am responsible for keeping you alive. And that means that no matter what happens, nobody is allowed to die before I do.” _Not even you_. 

And that was the crux of the matter. He didn’t doubt for a single moment that Akira would make good on that promise, and logically speaking, he knew that him staying outside would be the safest course of action for all of them. He didn’t want to stay outside. He also didn’t want to actually get Akira killed. 

He had saved that losers life twice now, both times at great personal risk. He was invested, alright? No use wasting that hard work. 

“I’ll think about it”, he said eventually. 

“Wait, really?” Akira sounded surprised. “I didn’t think that would actually work. I’m not ordering you to stay outside… But I would be far less stressed about this whole ordeal if you did. Your call.” 

There was a sound like a snap that accentuated the last sentence, and he could feel Akira lean back a little. “There.”

Goro reached a hand up on instinct as he zoned back in. The conversation had left him distracted, and he noticed that he hadn’t felt what exactly Akira had done after getting his hands on his hair. 

It sure as hell wasn’t falling around his face anymore, and feeling behind him… Yep. “Seriously?” It was a fucking braid. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist. And not to praise myself, but I think it looks quite good on you. Then again, you always look good, so it doesn’t really matter.”

Unfortunately for Akira, who was probably trying to get a reaction out of that, Goro One: knew that, and Two: was used to these kinds of compliments curtesy to his status, and therefore decided to ignore it. For now. 

“Where did you even get a hair tie?” He wouldn’t put it past Akira to have planned this in advance. 

“I found it under the cushions earlier. I don’t know how Ann does it, but they are _everywhere_ in this house. This is, like, the third one I found in two days.”

“Hm.” Goro didn’t know what more to say. He still didn’t feel much like talking, and yet he also didn’t want to go to sleep, for some reason. “Can you tell me about your oh so secret sign language or is that classified?” he asked, teasing lilt in his voice. Just to excuse sitting here a little longer. 

“Sure!” Akira said with more enthusiasm than anticipated. Suddenly, Goro felt himself being pulled backwards until his back rested against Akiras chest, arms were thrown out in front of him on either side of his head, fingers already dancing through different complicated motions. 

“Alright, so the basics first: Closed fist means ‘stop’, raised palm _into_ close fist means ‘attention everyone’, and if I want to address certain people only, it goes like this…”

He listened with rapt attention, trying to retain as much of the information as possible. He could feel Akiras chest rumble with every word he spoke, and the warmth radiating from him was the unique kind that could only come from another human being. They had shifted further back so they were mostly lying down, and for the first time since… well, he felt content. 

He didn’t even notice when he began to drift off, eyes slipping shut, the sound of another voice growing quieter as his breathing evened out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Thursday, Dec 8th_   
>  _2:06 am_
> 
> **Akria** : Ann  
>  **Akira** : Ann I need you to come here ASAP  
>  **Akira** : QUIETLY  
>  **Ann** : Tf is going on bithc its 2 am  
>  **Akira** : omfg jsu get over here and take a picture
> 
> *Ann, coming into the living room, seeing Akechi asleep*: This is the cutest shit  
> Akira: Take a pic and send it to me  
> Ann: Look at this blackmail material.   
> Akira: I can die in peace now. I'm too gay for this shit.   
> Ann: And I can hear his fans crying in the distance lmao


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 3 am and I wrote this over three weeks one paragraph at a time, but exams are literally around the corner and I'll leave this to you before they get me. Remember meeee~

For once, it wasn’t a dream that woke him, but he had the habit of coming to several times during nights anyway. Mostly it was just a haze, nothing he specifically remembered the next day. Just a quick checking that everything was fine, maybe readjusting his sleeping position a little if he became especially lucid. 

However, this time, things were not _fine_ , because there was another human being holding onto him. 

More specifically, he was currently (ab)using Akira as a pillow, who had his arms draped across his torso. 

So the situation was far from ideal. 

From the way he breathed and the slight tension in his body he could tell that Akira was awake, so Goro didn’t bother to be careful. He abruptly sat up, freeing himself, and tried to get his bearings again. 

Next to him, Akira sat up as well, yawning and stretching his arms. Goro could hear a few pops as some joints clicked back into place. 

“Already awake again?” the other asked, clicks continuing as he twisted his spine first left and then right. Goro thought that maybe instead of getting massages, Akira should go see a chiropractor. This was alarming. 

“How long was I even out?” he asked back, squinting at the clock on the far wall. It was a little too dark in that corner to be sure, but he thought it might be two twenty in the morning. Or ten past four. Either one. 

Akira shrugged. “Maybe half an hour?” The former, then. “Did I wake you?”

Goro shook his head. “You should have. At least then we could have both gone to bed. Your spine does not sound healthy.”

“Aww, come on, you were so cute!” Akira cooed. “I could never! Besides, you’ve looked tired for the past three days.”

Goro, still groggy, reached up to touch the skin underneath his eye. Eye bags had been an unfortunate constant over the last months, but had it really gotten so bad that they showed through the concealer?

…The concealer. 

Without further commentary, he got up and stalked towards the bathroom, flicking the switch as he entered and bracing himself before looking at the mirror. 

He already knew what he was going to see, so he took the image in with sad acceptance. 

Of course. He had almost forgotten about it, but the evidence of his crying was still clearly visible on his face, specifically in the places his make-up had been washed away and smudged. 

He could see those stupid freckles peek through, he could see the bags under his eyes, and there were wisps of hair already escaping the short braid, completing his deranged appearance. 

If he had any dignity left, this would have been the moment it would have packed up and vanished. 

_’So this is how it is’_ , he thought with a groan, blindly grabbing for a washcloth to start cleaning himself up. 

Akira came shuffling after him, leaning his full weight against the doorframe. His expression was hard to read. It was mostly the tired, open indifference that came with being awake in the middle of the night, but there was something almost… fond underlying. 

Goro was in a similar mood, looking forward to his bed, and somehow he didn’t mind Akira seeing him like this at all. It wasn’t like he was trying to hide anything, after all. 

He shot him the smallest smile, just an uplift of the corner of his mouth, before he started digging through the cabinet for an array of tubes and bottles to start his skincare routine.

He lined them up on the sink in a very specific order. There was always something calming about this, and usually he would enjoy the silence and let his mind wander. If Akira hadn’t been in the room, that is. 

“Do you do this _every day_?” Akiras eyes had grown wider with every new item added and after five, he finally spoke up in disbelief. 

Goro couldn’t help a smirk. “We can’t all roll out of bed looking like we’re about to hit the runway. Some of us actually have to work for our appearances”, he said airily. 

“I don’t get it”, Akira huffed, dragging himself over to the second sink, fumbling with toothbrush and –paste. 

“Well I can hardly go on TV with these”, Goro answered. 

Akira frowned, thinking as he scanned his face. “I fail to see your problem?” God, Goro sometimes wondered if Akira had multiple personalities and one was mentally challenged. 

He raised one finger pointedly at the bridge of his nose. _See this?_

Akira seemed confused. “But… the freckles?”

“Exactly.” Goro was happy that Akiras last two braincells had finally connected long enough to form a thought. He was not in the mood to give lengthy explanations. 

He returned to his efforts and tried not to be too bothered by the fact that Akira was watching his every move. It made him not as nervous as it should have, but nevertheless, it was weird. 

“You don’t like them? Sheesh, and I thought you were just being considerate, trying not to cause accidents when people turn to stare at you.”

It took Goro a moment to decide if this was a weird compliment or a backhanded insult. He couldn’t really figure out what the other was getting at. The freckles were annoying to say the least. He always looked like he had come back from the wilderness and forgotten to wipe the dirt off his face. 

“You’re not making any sense. Did the sleep deprivation already get to you?” he snapped. When in doubt, deflect and change the topic. He couldn’t be asked to deal with Akiras weird compliments. 

Somehow he was bothered by it. He was of course aware that Akira had been trying to flirt with him in some way, he was not subtle about it. But he was a flirt in general, that much he also knew. He had decided long ago that he wouldn’t respond to it. 

However, that had been _before_. He had thought it a (failed) attempt at getting closer to him in the hopes of gaining information about the investigation, friends close, enemies closer, yada yada. 

_Is he keeping it up out of habit?_ Goro wondered. He hoped that was the case, because the alternative was a lot more… complicated.

_Could it be I found his ulterior motive in keeping me around?_

And he had almost started believing him when he said he wanted to be friends. _That’s what you get for letting your guard down_ , he scolded himself.

Akira was thankfully oblivious to his thoughts. “I’m just saying, you look better without the make-up. At least from what I can see.” He gave him a pointed look that was probably supposed to be flirtatious. As flirtatious as one could be when in the process of brushing their teeth. Goro wanted him to stop. 

“And I think you look better without the glasses, but unlike you, I mind my own business.” Goro had meant it as a warning, and spoken without thinking. Somehow, he was suddenly very cross with Akira. 

The other blinked, confused, before his smile turned into that stupid dopey grin that made him look like an idiot. “Aw, really?” he chirped. “Well in that case, let’s make another deal: I’ll ditch the glasses if you do the same with the make-up!”

He looked so genuinely pleased with himself, beaming with innocent, almost childish excitement, that Goros doubts evaporated like fog under the rising summer sun. As if Akira would be that shallow. He was almost embarrassed for even _entertaining_ the possibility that Akira would go through this much trouble for selfish reasons. 

_He would never stoop that low_. That was a fact. He was surprised that he knew enough about the other to be so certain in his assessment. Huh. Maybe they were actually something like friends, having such knowledge of each other. 

And here he couldn’t even take one compliment without suspecting some hidden agenda. _Way to go me_. 

“Alright”, he conceded quietly. If it made Akira happy, he supposed he could bear with it. Besides, it would make him harder to be recognized outside. He wasn’t going on TV anytime soon. Win-win. “I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with it”, he added. 

Akira opened his mouth to answer and was interrupted by a lengthy yawn. “I should go to sleep”, he observed. 

Goro nodded, occupied with moisturiser. “You could have woken me, you know. It’s your own fault for staying up.”

Akira snorted a laugh. “And miss out on a prime cuddle session with one of my best friends? No way! I needed that! Although I _do_ need to get up early. I have stuff to prepare, so I’ll be out as well.”

Goro could just stare. _Best friends_. Maybe he was hallucinating. Maybe Akira was hallucinating. 

He splashed some more cold water on his face to stop the burning sensation on his skin. _How can he say that so off-handedly?_ Is that what they were in Akiras book?

“Whatever”, he muttered, turning the faucet off. “I’m going to sleep.” 

“Me too.” They stopped in the hallway, in front of their respective doors. Both hesitated, but Goro didn’t know why. He wanted to say _something_. Just what?

Again, Akira seemed to know him better than he knew himself these days. The embrace felt more natural this time, like they had done it countless times already. “Goodnight, Goro”, Akira said, stepping back and vanishing through the door. He stopped halfway through it, looking back expectantly. 

“Goodnight, Akira.” He slipped into his own room. It took a while to fall asleep, overthinking for good reasons, this time. 

Even when the familiar nightmare woke him a few hours later, he wasn’t too bothered. It was just a dream, after all. Nothing to worry about. It didn’t scare him anymore.

It wasn’t an omen, or a reminder, or anything along those lines. He didn’t want to hurt Akira, and he wasn’t going to. 

The next morning, he woke up to an empty apartment, Takamaki being at school and Akira having left before Goro had woken up. 

He found a sticky note on the fridge that informed him of leftover breakfast next to a plea to finally eat something. 

Goro rolled his eyes at his absent… friends, yes, that was the word, but he smiled to himself as he found a frankly enormous platter of sandwiches, sliced fruit and a whole thermos full of coffee. 

It was a little weird just how happy that small gesture made him, but since he was alone, he didn’t have to fight back the fond grin spreading across his face as he took it and sat down to eat. 

He diligently put the dishes away after he was done, and then cleaned the kitchen in general somewhat. 

There was this sudden need to give back and do something for the others as well. All evidence pointed to the fact that they were perfectly content with him just leeching around for the time being, but he felt like he had to prove to himself that he was capable of pulling his weight in this new arrangement. 

Of course good things never lasted long for Goro Akechi. 

It was barely past noon, and he had been busy digging up more evidence against Shido, using his experience from his detective work to sort the useful data, going back through the years and compiling lists of contacts, witnesses, accomplices, and victims, trying to remember everything Sae had taught him about the nitty-gritty of court proceedings, pouring through law texts and trying to plug up any holes that Shido might try to exploit once he was being prosecuted. 

When his phone started ringing he didn’t even notice it at first, being too absorbed in his work, and it took him a few seconds to figure out what had halted his train of thought. 

At first he was annoyed, because it had been a damn good train, and now it was possibly gone forever. A quick glance at the caller ID told him it was Akira, and the annoyance evaporated as well to make way for something oddly warm that he couldn’t quite name. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey. Are you alright?” Akira didn’t waste any time on pleasantries. He sounded tense, worried even. Goros smile faltered and was immediately replaced with a frown.

“Yes? Why wouldn’t I be? Are _you_ alright?” Goro countered. 

He didn’t receive a straight answer. “Have you seen the news?” was all Akira responded with. 

He hadn’t, but he was already opening a new tab and searching for the latest big articles as he told Akira “No, why? I was busy working on the eviden-“

The words died in his throat as he immediately found out just what the problem was. 

**New wave of Mental Shutdowns, 4 people confirmed dead**

Suddenly it was very difficult to breathe. He felt his heartrate speed up and his mind go blank, because he didn’t understand. 

“Goro?” Right, Akira was still on the phone. 

_He thinks you did it, he thinks you ran off to the Metaverse as soon as they left you alone, they’ll never trust you again, you messed up…_

“It wasn’t me.” It came out as a barely audible croak, and he cleared his throat to repeat himself. “It wasn’t me!”

“Goro. Goro!” Akiras voice was difficult to make out through the ringing in his ears, and he strained to listen. “I know it wasn’t you! I do! But that means there is someone else in the Metaverse.”

He tried to make sense of the words, but he felt oddly detached. Someone else in the Metaverse? That was hard to believe. Although it wasn’t impossible. “Right. Okay. So now what?” he asked, trying to keep up with his thoughts and the conversation simultaneously. 

“We need to discuss this as a group. The others are still at school, but I’m trying to get Kawakami to cover for them. I wondered if you could come by right now anyway. I don’t like the idea of any of us being alone right now.”

Goro nodded absentmindedly, already going through the possibilities and dangers of the situation. “Right, I’ll come by immediately.” He was already up, gathering his shoes, searching for his wallet and contemplating if he needed to get changed, but the loose clothes were probably a good addition to his disguise. 

“Don’t go through the Metaverse”, Akira ordered. “I don’t think it’s safe anymore.”

“You want me to travel through half the city in broad daylight?”

“And stay on the phone. It’s not like you’re supposed to be dead, it’ll be fine even if someone recognizes you. Just inconvenient.” There was no room for discussion here. 

So he all but sprinted out the door, making for the subway station as fast as he could without being conspicuous.

His phone disconnected once he went underground, and as he resurfaced, he had twelve missed calls from Akira. 

_Joker is freaking out._ Goro knew that the situation was objectively bad. But wasn’t this a little over the top? What else was going on? He felt like he was missing something. 

He sprinted the rest of the way through Yongen-Jaya, bell chiming violently as he tackled the door to Leblanc open with his full body weight. 

He was met with curious stares from several strangers (and Sakura-san). Apparently the café was not yet closed. Whoops. 

He grumbled a polite “Sorry” as he made his way past them upstairs without sparing them a second glance. Just as he approached the stairs, there was another jingle behind him and a louder “Pardon me!” as Kitagawa arrived.

They came into the attic together. Akira and Futaba greeted them with open concern and relief. They were already seated around the table, Morgana marching to and fro atop it like a drill sergeant, mumbling something. 

Futaba was torturing the keyboard of her laptop, gaze intense as she typed away. 

Akira was seated on the edge of a chair, bouncing his leg, fiddling with his hair like he was trying to rip it out. 

Their arrival interrupted their previous discussion. “There you are”, Akira sighed, relaxing a little. “The others are on their way, they’ll be here in about…” he checked something on his phone, “ten minutes. Do you want coffee?”

They nodded, and Akira vanished, only to return some time later with the rest of their group, carrying mugs for all that requested one. They took their seats in total silence. 

He considered shrinking into the corner, but that would make him look guilty, and _he wasn’t_. Although he had to convince himself, for some reason. It was almost like he couldn’t trust himself to be innocent. It had always been his fault in the past when it came to these sorts of headlines. 

To his surprise, aside from exchanged greetings, he was mostly left alone. No accusations were thrown at him. He felt almost ignored. It was off-putting in the sense that it was the opposite of what he had expected. 

He was spared the decision of his placement in the group when Ann grabbed his arm and forced him to sit on the gross old couch between her and Futaba, who reluctantly shuffled to the side to make room. 

“So”, Akira began, “we have all seen the news, I take it?”

A murmur of agreements rose around the table. The atmosphere was oddly sombre – Goro had expected more panic or frantic energy, not this eerie tension. All eyes turned to him. 

The looks were not quite accusatory, but there was suspicion nonetheless. “We should have asked earlier, but: Who else works for Shido in the Metaverse?” Niijima demanded.

 _Huh?_ Goro was taken aback. How on earth had they come to that conclusion? 

“I don’t know what you mean. I am the only Metaverse user he had”, he answered truthfully. “If he had someone else, he definitely would not have put up with me for this long, let me tell you.”

“True that”, Ann murmured. _Rude much?_ Goro glanced at her. She just flipped him off with a grin. 

“But Shido has to be involved with this!” Futaba shouted, throwing her arms in the air in frustration. “There is no other explanation.”

“What makes you think that?” he asked. 

She shoved the screen of her laptop at him. “Have you read the articles?” It was a rhetorical question, because for some reason she had already deduced he hadn’t. 

So he didn’t deign her with an answer, instead skimming over the text until he found what she meant. _Ooe, Hamamoto, Yamasaki, Ishihara_. The names of the victims. 

He had an audible _Oh no_ moment as he realized the full gravity of the situation. These were not just Mental Shutdowns. Somebody had gotten rid of the targets Shido had designated to him. In the privacy of his office. The only people that even knew about this were him, the Thieves, and Shido. 

He scoured the text further. There was not a lot of additional information, details probably kept under wraps by the police. The only thing he could gather was that they had all died sometime last night. _I have an alibi for that_. 

He wondered if that was the reason he wasn’t accused of being the culprit this time. Probably. 

“Then how do we explain this?” Niijima wondered aloud. “It was none of us, and the only other Persona-user we know of is Yoshizawa-san, and I somehow really doubt that she would be capable of doing something like this _if_ she knew about these people.”

“Yoshizawa? She has a Persona?” It was the first Goro heard of it. Just how many people were there? “Why isn’t she on the team then?”

Akira blew a puff of air at some offending bangs in his eyes, deep in thought. “She doesn’t really agree with the ethics of the Phantom Thieves; I believe we discussed this together once?” Goro did remember that talk. 

“Anyway, she and I stumbled into a Palace on accident in summer and she awakened there, but we got out quickly. I invited her to join, but she declined. She _did_ sneak after us into the Casino in November, helped me out in there after I split with you guys. She’s a pretty decent fighter, but nowhere near our level. She considered joining us against Shido, but I had to turn her down. Too dangerous.”

“Anybody else you know of?” Goro asked, a little incredulous. Just how many people were sauntering about the Metaverse these days? There was a lot to unpack, and suddenly he wondered how much of this was a coincidence. 

“None that we know of”, Kitagawa stated. “That is why we are asking about your peers.”

“I mean, we had like what, eight awakenings in a little under a year? There _has_ to be other people!” Morgana demanded. 

“That’s actually what’s bothering me”, Goro explained hesitantly. He had thought before about the sudden appearance of another group in the Metaverse, but never under such serious circumstances. Heads swivelled towards him, the room suddenly silent as they waited on his input. 

“Unless he played me for a total fool, I am convinced that Shido has no other Metaverse users at his disposal”, he started to explain. “But that is definitely not due to his lack of trying.”

He shifted into a more comfortable position. This was going to be a long one. 

“You see, in the beginning, just after I had made him aware of the Metaverse existing, I was still involved with the research on the topic. One of the main questions was my Persona, and how I had gotten it. _Why_ I had gotten it. If others could have that power. And after he found out what I could do with it, he was hell-bent on developing those powers himself, or at least getting a second Persona user at his disposal. A back-up, if you will. They tried everything; sending in more and more people, of different backgrounds, age groups, gender, any variable you can think of, he tried it. There were dozens.” 

He leaned forward. 

“I never quite understood why I was the only one. You told me it has something to do with the spirit of rebellion, and most of the individuals he sent in were his own associates. Sheep, if you will. Most of them already had distortions or Palaces. That said, he found his fair share of unrelated parties, picked up from god knows where, and he had me put their names in the Meta-Nav. Even if there was nothing, no hits, they failed to form a Persona, no matter how much… pressure they were under.”

A lot of these people had fallen victim to Shadows. It had also quite thoroughly proven that it was very possible to die in the Metaverse and never be heard of again. 

“The first other people I ever encountered in the Metaverse were you guys. After two years. That’s part of the reason he was so obsessed with you. Suddenly, after failing for so long, there are not one, not two, but _eight_ other people running around the place in the span of a few months. Don’t you think that’s odd?”

Akira was deep in thought. “It _is_ odd. From my perspective, I would have guessed that pretty much anybody could awaken, unless they had a major distortion. Like, Palaces and Personas are kind of mutually exclusive, but aside from that?” He looked around the table. “I’ve never _not_ seen someone awaken in the Metaverse.”

He looked towards Morgana. “What do you think?”

The cat stayed silent, swishing his tail. “I really don’t know for sure…” he offered eventually. “But could it have something to do with you being a wildcard? Your Arcana are connected to Personas, and yours has the number ‘0’ assigned, infinite possibilities… They also all link back to you as a common confidant. Now that I think about it, they only happened in your presence. Even with Noir. She had latent potential, but couldn’t awaken fully until she joined your team.”

“Then what about Akechi?” Niijima asked. 

“Well, he has a _similar_ power in the sense he has multiple Personas.” Morgana turned towards him. “What _is_ your Arcana?”

“I have no idea”, Goro admitted. “That concept is new to me.” Akira had given him the gist of it, but it still seemed a little far-fetched to him. He knew about the topic in general, and made a mental note to research this in more detail later. 

“Justice”, Akira announced into the silence. “Your Arcana is Justice.”

“For real?” Sakamoto asked sceptically. There were a lot of raised eyebrows at that. Not that he could blame them. 

It was weirdly ironic. The murderer with the Justice Arcana. Maybe his was inverted or something like that. But it was no use dwelling on this now. He expanded his notes into researching the Fool and Justice specifically. 

But for now had other concerns. “That is what that voice called me…” he remembered. “Justice.”

“What voice?” Morgana asked, cocking his head in question. 

He cleared his throat a little awkwardly. They would probably think him crazy for this. “When I was in Shidos Palace; when I followed you. I watched the fight against the Shadow of the Cleaner for a while. And there was this weird voice talking to me, saying that ‘The game was unjust’ and if I was okay with ‘how they used me’ and so on. It was what prompted me to step in, really.”

“An unjust game?” Akira asked, pale as a ghost and looking like he had just seen one. “Are you sure about that?”

Goro nodded. 

“The voice… Was it a woman? Really soft, slow speech, kind of angelic?” Goro nodded again, warily this time. 

“Did you see a blue butterfly?”

“I didn’t, not really… There was _something_ blue, I think, but I was sort of otherwise preoccupied.”

Akira stared him dead in the eyes. “Goro, have you ever been to the Velvet Room?”

Goro frowned. He had no idea whatever that was supposed to be, but it rung some distant bell in his memory. He had an odd feeling of déjà-vu, but was unable to place it. “I don’t think so, but- the name sounds kind of familiar…”

The others followed their exchange back and forth like spectators in a tennis match. 

“The Velvet Room…” Morgana echoed softly. “What is that, Akira? I- I think that it’s very important, somehow.”

Akira started explaining, hesitantly at first, about how he had first gotten into a mysterious room in his dreams, only to find it later inside Palaces and in reality as well. He described the wardens, Caroline and Justine, and how people mostly couldn’t see them, but sometimes that changed. 

Apparently, some of the Thieves had actually met them once. 

He also talked about Igor, and how he had given Akira guidance and a mission in the Metaverse. How he could fuse and register his Personas there, and that he could also turn them into some more fancy gear. 

He described the voice that announced new confidants and blood vows to him. How it had been there, in the interrogation room, pleading for a saviour, telling him about an unjust game. 

It may be because Goro was, comparatively, an outsider in this group. The other Thieves nodded in acceptance, clearly somewhat baffled by the more outrageous concepts; however, their reactions were more of a ‘Oh now I see, that makes sense’. 

Goro derived something way more sinister from all of these revelations. 

“So let me summarise this”, he began after Akira finished. “There is some… being in the Metaverse that assists you with your infiltrations. That being wants you to take down Palaces and gather supporters and teammates around you. And whenever you take down a Palace, Mementos expands further down, which by the way is a major pain in the ass. So far correct?”

They nodded hesitantly. 

“There have also been near-miraculous coincidences in which nearly every Palace gave you personal incentives to defeat their rulers, and the affected party awoke to a Persona without fail.”

More nods. Akira looked pensive. 

“You also _very_ miraculously ran into Mona during your first trip ever and thus had a qualified guide to assist you in this matter, but he cannot remember where he came from or how he knows this.”

Akira interrupted him, chin in one hand, staring out the window in deep thought. “You’re saying we are being manipulated by someone to do this, aren’t you?”

The silence that fell over them was almost a physical presence. Futaba merely started typing faster, as if she had expected this. Morgana stared into space with wide eyes, and the rest exchanged insecure glances in dawning realization. 

“It wouldn’t be impossible”, Goro continued slowly. “I was always under the impression that _something_ chooses to give this power. I’ve had… dreams as well, nothing like the Velvet Room per se, but some of them have been… weird.” 

His oddly specific recurring nightmares were only the most recent ones in this line. Sometimes he had woken up with keywords in mind, or felt the sudden urge to move his plans around and enter Mementos on a particular day, most of which had ended up being days with beneficial effects due to the weather or recent big events reshaping the public’s cognition. 

He was a little more unsettled when he remembered the days he woke up with a sudden, seething hatred of the Phantom Thieves, and Akira specifically. He should probably mention that. Later. In private. 

“I’m not saying that our Personas are forced upon us. The Meta-Nav most definitely is, though. Without it, I’d have said maybe divine intervention or something”, he shrugged, “but an app? These are artificially made. And the fact that you are encouraged to take these Palaces down doesn’t sit right with me either. They are actually not as common as you might think. I found a couple dozen in my time, that’s just the kind of people Shido surrounds himself with, but I didn’t infiltrate more than ten total. They were never as extensive as Sae-sans or Shidos, though. And they never opened doors in Mementos.”

He leaned forward, propping his elbows onto his knees and resting his chin on his interlaced fingers. “I think, and this is just my own theory, that there is something or someone in the depths of Mementos, and it wants us to go down there. Either to free it, or to lure us in.”

There was just more silence after that. He could read them like open books, pinpointing exactly how far they were along in processing what he had just implied. His own mind was working at lightning speed, trying to shape feelings and hunches into something more substantial, trying to find even the smallest circumstantial evidence. 

The odd tension in the air suddenly evaporated as Sakamoto grunted “Yea, but what does that have to do with the Mental Shutdowns?”

It was a truly bizarre situation; the way they turned to him for answers. _’Hey, you’re the expert on causing Mental Shutdowns, mind explaining to us the limitations on murdering people?’_

Awkward.

It broke the connections he was building in his mind like an expanding spiderweb, because, well, he had become completely side-tracked and nearly forgotten why they were here in the first place. 

He stared a little dumbly in lieu of an answer as he tried to piece the connections back together whilst also linking them to the problem at hand. 

The problem was that he _didn’t know_. The solution was there, just barely out of reach, and try as he might, he couldn’t quite grasp it. Additionally, something was bugging him about the whole situation, but he couldn’t figure that out either. 

At least the roadblock was a shared sentiment, as neither Akira nor Morgana had anything to add as well. 

“We’re lacking motive”, Niijima eventually began, hesitantly. She had a notepad on her lap and jotted down the facts, crossing out words on occasion. “If Shido is not, directly or indirectly, responsible for this, then who would benefit from the deaths of these people? And why? They must be pretty powerful if they can get four people nearly simultaneously.”

 _That’s it._ Suddenly, he knew what was bothering him. “Why did they all have Mental Shutdowns at the exact same time?” he wondered. 

They shot him puzzled looks, trying to figure out what he was getting at. 

“Is that not normal?” Kitagawa inquired. Goro shifted uncomfortably as they awaited his _expertise_ on the topic of Mental Shutdowns. 

Akira saved him. “You mean that the changes from the Metaverse take time until they show in the real world, right?”

Goro nodded. He knew that the Thieves knew that, partially. Their calling cards were always sure pointers as to when they stole the treasure, and the time between that and their target being affected varied greatly, from a few days to over two weeks. 

What they couldn’t know for sure was that it was the same with the Shutdowns (example: Okumura). He summarised his knowledge as impersonally as he could, although it was unnecessary to keep up the pretence. “Even if it there was a way to coordinate the times, how would they do it in less than three days?” he prompted them. 

The simple answer was: They didn’t know. Couldn’t even begin to guess. 

After all this trouble and stressing, the outcome was unsatisfying in its simplicity: There was something/someone else in the Metaverse, and they would have to tread more carefully until further evidence presented itself. 

Which would have, as Okumura now explained, led to the instigation of the buddy-system, were they not already using that. It also didn’t change their plan to send the calling card the next evening and steal Shidos treasure on Saturday. 

They were all relatively safe in the real world, for now, as their powers exempted them from having Shadows in the first place. The biggest threat would be running into the mystery murderer or the negative impact this was going to have on their public image. 

The more negatively the Phantom Thieves of Hearts were perceived, the more dangerous Mementos would become. 

“Should we get your phone back?” Futaba asked him. “Maybe Shido expects some confirmation that you ‘completed his quest’. Or can give us any insight, really.” She waved quotation marks with her fingers, eyes not once straying from her screen. 

He shrugged. “Could be useful”, he admitted, although internally he hoped he wouldn’t have to talk to that asshole again. He was fairly sure that there would be no new hints in that direction, but on the off-chance he was wrong… “If anything, he would call me, but I’m not sure he even realizes something is off about this.”

“I can go get it for you”, Ann offered, already standing. 

“Wait!” Akira called, startling them all. “We shouldn’t go into the Metaverse unless we need to”, he added. 

“But wouldn’t it be better to see if there _is_ someone waiting for us before we go into the Palace? If we send the calling card and then, for some reason, can’t get to the treasure, we won’t get a second chance. The Thieves Den is relatively safe in comparison”, Morgana prompted. 

Akira visibly gritted his teeth. He acknowledged the point, albeit reluctantly. “Alright then.” He turned to Ann, “But you’re not going alone. Oracle, Mona, Fox?” 

The navigators got up, Futaba already complaining. 

Kitagawa hesitated. “I will come if you need me to, but I actually came here on a free period, and if I don’t return soon, my teachers will notice that I am missing. You said we should not draw attention to ourselves; I’ll leave this decision to you.”

Akira waved a hand in a shooing motion. “Nah, it’s fine. Go be a diligent student”, he laughed. 

“I should prolly head back too, then”, Sakamoto sighed. 

“Didn’t Kawakami get you out?” Niijima inquired. 

“Hell if I know, I just left between classes”, he admitted. “And next is history. I could use the preparation for finals, if I’m honest.”

Niijima glowered at him with all of her student council president authority and the blonde left with a hurried “See ya!”

Akira sighed again, fondly this time. “Okay, I guess that’s that… Queen, you up for it?”

“Sure.”

“Great, let’s go then. The rest of you, wait here”, Akira told them as they left down the stairs. Goro had been about to follow, assuming this was a ‘all hands on deck’ type of scenario. 

Before he could find the proper words to voice a protest or inquire about maybe joining them without sounding like a pouting child, they were already gone. 

“Guess it’s just us then”, Okumura commented, off-handed. The intense look in her eyes told him that she was up to something. 

“Did you plan this?” he asked, leaning back in faux relaxation. He wouldn’t put it past her. She always _seemed_ nice and polite, but he had seen her Persona, with a skirt full of heavy weaponry, and he knew that it was merely a façade, much like his own. 

Of all the Thieves, she was second on the list when it came to ‘treat with a healthy amount of respect’. Especially after he shot her father. Welp. 

She shook her head, the oppressive energy of her attention retreating somewhat, giving him room to breathe. “Not really. I told the group that I wished to talk to you in private sometime, but I didn’t think they’d set us up like this.”

He had a feeling that he knew what this was going to be about. Truth be told, he had wanted to talk to her (on a different topic, but alas) as well. So he lifted his chin, trying to stay confident in his right to be in this very room. 

She had every right to despise him, but he wouldn’t let that get in the way of what he was trying to achieve, be it their mission against Shido or his relationships with his new temporary friends. 

“I have a question. About my father”, she began, hesitantly. She fiddled with the loose threads on the end of the scarf that lay folded in her lap, looking across the room slowly. 

He had expected some accusations, maybe a demand for an apology. Fury, hate, resentment. But she seemed almost meek. 

“Well?”, he prompted eventually, trying his best to keep his expression and voice neutral. 

The fiddling stopped, and she folded her hands neatly. Finally, she gathered her courage, looking straight at him as she asked “Is it true that he ordered Mental Shutdowns to boost our business?”

 _Oh_. 

How the fuck was he supposed to react to that? _Sorry, your father was an asshole and is indirectly responsible for the deaths of eleven people, and I was really glad to get rid of him because he was rude as fuck and also cost me literal weeks of my life trying to figure out how to locate someone in Mementos that lived on the other side of Japan?_

Probably not the best way to phrase this. 

He didn’t necessarily want to antagonize her further, but this delicate condolences crap was really not his forte. The bastard had it coming, that was a fact. From what he had seen that day, their relationship had not been the best, which was probably good for him in this situation. 

He calculated his options. He could lie to her, deny everything. Maybe she would be relieved to hear it, and by proxy associate that positive connotation with himself. Secure the weird truce they had. It would help fasten his own position a little more; Okumura was one of his biggest concerns, after all. She served as a constant reminder as to why they shouldn’t trust him, and if she spoke up about it… Not good. 

However, he couldn’t outright lie. They knew already that something like that had happened, and lying in her face would not garner him any points either. 

A half-truth maybe? Say that Shido set it all up and her father had no choice but to go along? But she didn’t seem to be desperate to absolve him from anything, more like she wanted closure on the chapter and move on. So should he admit that she was right and get it over with?

There was however no denying the fact that she had grieved for her father and was still trying to cope with the events. He certainly did not relate, he would be overjoyed if someone put a bullet in Shidos head after all, but he supposed he could understand. A little. 

He decided that honesty would, for once, be the best policy. “He did. It got to a point where he got a little overenthusiastic in getting rid of his opponents, so Shido decided he had to go.” _So we set him up, set you up, and planned some more murders._

She nodded, gaze straying once again into nothing. “I see.”

There was another bout of silence. He did not really know what prompted him to break it, but the issue was bothering him. Had been for quite a while, like an itch he couldn’t scratch. “If you’re hoping for an apology, I’ll have to disappoint you. Anything along those lines would be a lie”, he told her defiantly. 

She didn’t even look at him. “It’s alright. I just- I needed to know, I guess. My father and I, we… had not the best relationship. In his Palace, we- I saw his cognition of me, and-“ 

Goro raised a hand to signal her to stop. She seemed distressed, and he would _really_ hate it if she started crying about this. Not only had he no idea what to do in that situation, the rest of the team would probably give him hell for it when they came back. 

“You don’t have to tell me. I was there, when you fought his Shadow. I got the gist of it.”

“Oh. Right.” She looked relieved to be able to skip this and get straight to her point. 

“I just needed to know. I’m still trying to figure out what that all meant. Means. I wonder if he ever only saw me as a tool, or if somewhere, deep down, he still cared. I actually thought about running away multiple times. I resented him for- well, selling me off, basically. I can’t even feel that sad about him being gone. I mean, he still was my father, and I miss him, and I wish it hadn’t come to this, but I can’t help but feel… free, in a sort of way. And then I feel also guilty about not being as sad as I am supposed to be. Ah, I’m sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

It was the first he ever heard about any of this, and he couldn’t help but feel a little more resentment towards Okumura Kunikazu. What was it with people using their children like that these days? Did she want his input on this? He could see the parallels in their lives more clearly now. 

“It’s fine, really”, he assured her. “You know, just because you are related to someone by blood doesn’t mean that you owe them affection. You don’t owe them anything, really. I mean, no one has stopped once to think Shido deserves reconsideration just because I joined the group again. He has it coming and that’s that.”

She had been listening with her head tilted to the side. Now she swivelled back around to look at him fully, frowning. “What does Shido have to do with you rejoining?”

“Ah. They haven’t told you, I take it?” That’s what he got for trying to be reassuring. He took a deep breath, deciding to get it over with. 

It was easier this time around, maybe because he had done it before without being shoved out the door. “He is my father. By blood and nothing else, mind you.”

“Huh.” She took a moment to deal with that bombshell. “You’re right, I had no idea. It makes some things clearer. Who else knows that?”

“Akira and Futaba, maybe Morgana. To be honest, I thought they had informed you about that, but I guess I was wrong. I don’t know how gossip travels with you guys”, he shrugged. 

“I certainly won’t tell anybody, if that is what you want. Promise”, she smiled. 

“Whatever.” There it was again. He narrowed his eyes at her, trying to figure her out. “If I may ask a question in return: You have made it a point to be accommodating towards me, when you are the one who has most reason to despise me. Why is that?”

If she was affected by his bluntness, she didn’t show. Instead, she smiled again, softer this time. A picture of pure innocence, if it weren’t for the dangerous glint in her eyes. 

“I am merely trying to prevent us from needlessly fighting. It doesn’t mean I forgive you for what you did, or that I particularly care about you. To be quite honest, I don’t know _how_ I feel about you, in any way. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be civil with you, if it keeps the group together. It’s a skill I’ve cultivated over many years. So unless you give me a reason to remedy that sentiment, I suggest it stays that way.”

“Fair enough”, he answered. If it was business, he could follow the common rules in the field. Easy.

“If you hurt Akira, we will end you”, she added. 

Goro rubbed at his eyes. “People keep telling me that”, he confessed. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan to. Once this is over, I’ll be out of your hair and you’ll never hear from me again, if I can help it.”

He looked up as she let out a heavy sigh, putting her face in both hands. “Does Akira know that that is your plan?” she muttered. 

_Well, yes, it’s the obvious course of action, even if my name doesn’t come up in the proceedings against Shido._

Out loud, he simply answered “He’s not an idiot, of course he does.”

Silence. He had wandered over to the shelf next to the bed, inspecting the useless junk that was piled up there. Downstairs, the sounds from the café filtered through, and he could hear a dog barking in the distance outside the window. 

“What is Akira to you?”

The words floated quietly through the space, and it took him a moment to decipher their meaning. When he did, his brain stuttered to a halt.

What sort of question was that? What was she getting at? There were a lot of implications here, none of which he liked. _One wouldn’t be so bad_.

He banished the thought immediately, cursing the concept of connotations and word associations. He could feel his face heat up, despite the fact that there was nothing to even be embarrassed about. 

Looking back, this one question was one of these moments that tilted one’s world on its axis. 

_Because he didn’t know_. 

They weren’t enemies, and they weren’t merely allies, either. Rivals wasn’t it, not anymore. It had been his go-to label for the past months, but it didn’t sit right with him any longer. 

“I-I, erm, I mean, what?” Higher speech, goodbye. “We are-“ _I don’t know!_ “Friends?” he finished lamely. 

That didn’t feel right either. Not after everything that had happened. 

Haru sent a silent prayer to the ceiling. 

“This is exactly what I was just talking about. Ann was right, this is painful to watch”, she groaned. “Listen, please talk to him about that sometime, okay?”

“Sure”, he shrugged, if only to shut her up. He couldn’t concentrate on a conversation right now. 

_After I figure it out myself_.

Her gaze was piercing. “Akira is giving a lot for you. If you up and vanish without at least talking it out with him, our next calling card _will_ go to you, and we won’t bother with the Metaverse.”

All he could do was nod in the hopes of not upsetting her further. 

There was a weird pattern going on here. 

It was almost like they expected him to stick around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Minions #6**  
>  _Thursday, Dec 8th_  
>  **Noir** has renamed the Chat to **WTF is their relationship**
> 
>  **Noir** : So apparently Ann was right, and I decided that bets are now open.  
>  **Queen** : My money is on friendship+  
>  **Oracle** : Funny how u spell fuckbuddies  
>  **Fox** : I was under the certain impression that they were romantically involved?  
>  **Oracle** : aka fuckbuddies  
>  **Skull** : If what Ann told me the other day was the truth, the def aint. Kiras just gone  
>  **Oracle** : Shuake, Frenemies to lovers, one-sided pining  
>  **Panther** : Right now they be (thirsty) roommates  
>  **Noir** : Morgana says they're rivals?  
>  **Oracle** : lol that's just the 18th century word for a homoerotic relationship  
>  **Oracle** : U know, before gays were a thing  
>  **Crow** : I'll have you that that is not what that word means  
>  **Crow** : I'll also have you know that I am not that desperate @Oracle  
>  **Skull** :...  
>  **Fox** : Oh dear  
>  **Oracle** : yet  
>  **Panther** : WHY IS HE HERE  
>  **Noir** : I realize this was Minions #6 and not Minions #5  
>  **Noir** : My bad  
>  **Joker** : Goddammit Crow, this was just getting funny  
>  **Skull** : Y is HE here  
>  **Crow** : You really have no standards if this is entertaining to you  
>  **Joker** : Fuck u  
>  **Panther** : He wishes  
>  **Joker** : Alright Oracle remember when we were in Akihabara that one time and the thing happened?  
>  **Oracle** : dont U DARE 
> 
> _This chat has been deleted_


End file.
